Seekers
by Kitt SummerIsle
Summary: Just what makes a Seeker tick? How one becomes a Seeker and what exatly it means? And what Bumblebee has to do with Seekers?
1. Damaged

******Title:** Seekers  
><strong>Continuity:<strong> G1-ish  
><strong>Character(s):<strong> Bumblebee, Skywarp, Thundercracker, Ratchet  
><strong>Rated:<strong> M  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> torture/rape/slash/character death  
><strong>Disclaimers: the usual. No OC, no owning it, just fooling around with Tr<strong>****

* * *

><p><strong>Damaged<strong>

Skywarp

Skywarp was angry, horny and as consequence thoroughly frustrated – a mood that promised nothing good whatsoever to anyone around him. In this case it included his fellow Seekers too who were the ones mainly responsible for his mood that seemed blacker than his body. Starscream was his usual bitchy self, no surprise there and chewed out the black and purple jet for his admittedly not the best performance in the last battle; but he wouldn't have expected Thundercracker to back up the Air Commander and bark at him just as angrily. For Primus' sake they were lovers and TC has always taken his side when Starscream got this angry at him. Okay, his fury might have had something to do with the teleporter's bungle at covering his back which resulted in the blue Seeker being caught by one of those damned twins who made a painful mess of his back plating; Jet Judo be damned to the Pit. Still, Skywarp thought that it was too much of a punishment to be left behind alone to patrol the area while his trinemates hobbled back to Nemesis to be repaired. After all he was shot too, albeit not dangerously and the raid itself had interrupted some very pleasant activities in their quarters which still tingled in his circuits. He was very tempted to fly back to TC at once and make up for his mistake in the most pleasant way... but the thought of what Megatron would say – and do! – if he disobeyed orders stopped him and he kept him flying over the forested hillsides grumbling to himself. He hated to be left alone and it wasn't like the Autobots remained in the area anyway, so the whole patrol idea was just a punishment without any justification… hmm, wait a klik, was that blip an Autobot or just a sensory ghost?

Skywarp forgot his mood at once, as he was not one to hold onto anything for long and circled back to check the sensors again. Yes, there was an Autobot there, a grounder, moving slowly in the heavily forested area of some National Park or something as his maps informed him. He was tempted to just shoot a couple of missiles at him and leave it at that but curiosity won and he wanted to see which Autobot was able to move in such inhospitable surroundings; there were no roads, much less highways around that groundpounders could use. He landed as quietly as he could a bit further from the moving blip on a boulder at the side of a ravine and waited for it to come closer. When he appeared at the bend of the valley he saw a green Jeep of the Autobot scout, moving expertly in the uneven, broken up floor, among the thick underbrush. Skywarp had to admit, he was negotiating the abysmal ground with almost a grace – not something he would've ever thought to ever associate with a mere grounder. But he could admire the way the scout was at home in the forest, blending in nicely with his pleasant dark green and black colouring… Skywarp shook his head. What was it that made him stare at the Autobot and admire it instead of shooting him to the Pit? He got off the boulder with a short burst from his thrusters, landing in front of the Jeep and kicking it onto the side of the valley with the same momentum.

Hound

Hound got just a last nanoklik of warning from his sensors before a huge, winged menace appeared in front of him on the forest floor and he was flying – but only a short way before crashing into a tree and falling to the ground. He transformed as fast as he could but the Seeker was onto him before he could move, and from the violet light that preceded his movement the scout knew exactly which flier it was and how futile would it be to try to run for it. Not that any of them were any less vicious, he though wryly, trying to bring his rifle around and failing as Skywarp stepped on his arm almost lazily. The Seeker interestingly didn't look his usual vicious self, instead he was… almost like interested. Not that it stopped him from restraining him and with a casual movement crush his rifle and throw the broken piece of metal away into the forest's undergrowth. But even after that, the dark face above him peered at the scout prone underneath him with open curiosity, and even asked his designation. Hound was instinctly wary of him, although he answered civilly to the question; long association with Mirage taught him to be polite in every situation and he was not really a cursing kind to begin with either. Seekers were always a strange bunch, behaving erratically on whims and he wouldn't want to anger one if he wasn't in such mood to begin with. But the curious looks that the Seeker gave him slowly turned into something else; as he felt the clawed hands on his chassis, the eyes above him turned into… almost hungry, and Hound shivered. The dark body lowered on top of him and the green scout felt the claws finding the joints between his plates, first touching, then as they tore into him, firing up a mixture of pleasurable and painful sensations in his pinned body.

Bumblebee

In his dark cell, Bumblebee knew that he was loosing the battle for staying online. He was, quite simply a wreck by this time, running on the last of his reserves and barely even feeling his body any more. He supposed that it was an improvement over feeling the agony of the torture the Cons subjected him to in the orn since they captured him, and he knew that even if he was rescued at the very breem he might not survive. They wanted to know how he got into the ship last time and they wanted to know it fast; and so spared nothing that their twisted, cruel minds could make up to wring that information out of the small spy. Electro-whip, shock prod, beating, the tears of cruel claws everywhere, the flame of a blowtorch melting through the mangled remains of his armour and circuitry, and the worst of it the rapes… he didn't tell them what they wanted to know though, and by the end he was sure that he would take his knowledge into the Well – if nothing else because his vocalizer was torn out too at some point. Frankly, he would be glad to finally be able to sink into oblivion – he couldn't do that until they were still torturing him, but as his senses, his connections to the world were snapped one by one he felt the blackness coming closer and closer… until it finally engulfed him and the mangled remains of the blind, deaf, mute and thoroughly wrecked mech fell offline in the Nemesis' interrogation cell…

Prime

The Autobots might have won the battle and prevented the Cons from blowing the human power plant up, but it didn't make any of them happier when they noticed that Bumblebee was not with them at the end. After scouring the area and making sure that he was nowhere in or around the battlefield whether on-, or offline, they had to acknowledge that he was probably taken by the retreating Cons and they all knew what that entailed… Optimus Prime tried to contact Megatron to negotiate the scout's release but his communication attempt was not even acknowledged for a whole orn. The whole Ark was quieter than usual, all mechs going about their business in a subdued manner, as the yellow spy was liked by basically everyone and they all knew the implications of him being captured… it was fortunate – or so they thought then – that the Cons' energon raid was unsuccessful and so after a while Megatron was grudgingly accepting to exchange Bumblebee for fuel that they needed; and Prime agreed to the exchange, even though the warlord expressed clearly that the spy was not unharmed. They all understand what he wasn't saying outright; that the yellow mech was tortured and they were fortunate to have him back alive at all – but even so they wanted to get him home, if for nothing else but to have his body and know his fate…

Skywarp

Skywarp quickly forgot what he was supposed to do, which was to shoot the Autobot and move on with his patrol; he saw nothing wrong with playing a bit with the green mech before offlining him. After all, his usual morning interface-time with TC was quite rudely interrupted by Megatron, demanding them to be ready for the raid – and the way his blue trinemate acted before he left, Skywarp was uncomfortably sure that he wouldn't be willing to continue it even when he got back to the Nemesis. So, he had to amuse himself as he could, and the Autobot underneath him was as good as any… he wasn't thrashing at all, which made it even easier. Skywarp smirked to himself and got down to business; he liked to rev up even the prisoners before getting rough and tearing into them, enjoying the mixture of moans from pleasure with screams of pain. He played a bit with the green mech's wires, liking the understanding appear in his optics as he grasped what the Seeker was going to do with him, and tearing his interface panel off, he thrust himself roughly into the mech, eliciting a sudden yelp of pain. It was joined by others as he got rough, tearing and clawing him while continuing to ram into his valve, enjoying himself finally after a long and frustrating cycle. When he was on the brink of the overload, the Seeker tore into his chest plates too, forcing his spark-chamber open, uncovering his own spark too; he saw the terror in the scout's eyes as he understood that he was not only being violated in his body but his spark as well… Skywarp cackled madly as he brought his spark down on the helpless Jeep, still thrusting into him roughly, ready to plunge his spark as he overloaded… when a sharp sound tore into the moans and screams and Skywarp felt a totally exquisite agony for a nanoklik… and nothing else.

Mirage

Mirage stood frozen with the rifle in his hand, watching the already graying Seeker topple slowly to the side from the force of the shot that went straight into his exposed spark. As soon as he hit the ground the noble was running onto his lover's side, falling on his knees, madly checking if he was all right, or at least as all right as he could be, calling his name, calling the Ark on his comm, shouting for help and trying to get the attention of Hound… he was leaking energon in a dozen places from torn and clawed wounds, his spark still exposed, the interface panel torn and the valve ravaged brutally – but he was alive and even coming around, recognizing Mirage. Since none of the other Autobots had quite the right alt-modes to drive on the rough forest floor, they had to carry out Hound on foot until at the edge of the forest Ratchet could finally transform and take him to the Ark med-bay. As for Skywarp's body, Prime ordered it to be collected, since he didn't want the humans to get hold of it and learn advanced technology and weaponry, not to mention warping. The Aerialbots had a hard time of lifting it out from the dense forest, and they were picking tree boughs from their wing-flaps for days afterwards.

Ratchet

The exchange was a dark affair, Skyfire transporting the energon to the waiting Cons to the agreed place, with only Ratchet with him to see to Bumblebee's injuries, and both parties withdrawing at once after it happened. On their way back neither Skyfire nor the medic could bring them to answer to the worried questions of their fellow Autobots in the comm… they were both too horrified by the scout's condition. Ratchet hardly know where to start repairing him, as there was simply not a single whole, undamaged patch of metal on his body, and he was leaking all kinds of fluids basically from everywhere. Upon arriving to the Ark he took the mangled body out from the shuttle's hold – and saw the horror-struck faces around him who saw the condition of their friend… Nobody could say a word as he took Bumblebee into sickbay, hooked him up onto an energon feed line and as he started patching up the numerous leaks, a single, dark thought started to go round in his meta. There was no way he could fix the scout. Yes, he could repair a lot, but the injuries were so extensive, went so deep, into his protoform, into his innermost parts, elements, alloys and parts that he simply did not have spares for. He could have him in spark-support and maybe, eventually they could transport him somehow back to Cybertron where they might get the parts and metals that he would need. But it would take vorns and he was sure that the yellow mech – who was at this point neither yellow nor really a mech in the strictest sense of the word - was close to going mad as it were from the torture, not to mention being in this mangled state for such a long time to come.

He stood at one side of the med-bay table, Wheeljack working from the other but they hardly talked – only what was absolutely necessary while they removed damaged parts and stopped the leaks to stabilize the scout. There was pitifully little that remained when they finished the immediate repairs and removed the irreparable parts; barely anything that they could call a mech. When Ratchet finished with the work for the while, he covered the body with a microfiber tarp and turned to Hound that they brought in just after the spy; his injuries were more superficial, much easier to repair, even as the medic knew that the psychological scars were just as deep. But at least he could repair his body and Mirage would slowly heal the rest. When he was ready with Hound and turned back to the other table Ratchet suddenly felt older than in a long time… he went into his office for a much-needed cube of high-grade, cursed loudly the war that made mechs such barbarians, so cruel and vicious… and when he was through with his private outburst collected himself, cast a loathing glare at the grey, dead Seeker body on one of the tables and went to report to Prime. He was glad that he caught Prowl and Jazz with Optimus, but on the other hand he felt cruel to give them such news; their relationship with Bumblebee was not public knowledge on the Ark but he, as medic knew all about it. On his way there, he stopped by the rec-room to tell the others that the spy was stable for now, but facing to a long recovery, while Hound would be out in no time; the relief was palpable in the room at those news.

"What is his condition, Ratchet?"

"He is stable now Prime, but the outlook is not good. He won't die, that is not a danger, but I have even worse news; I simply cannot repair him, as we haven't got the necessary alloys and parts. His processor and the memory banks are also damaged somewhat and I'll have to make a hardline connection to his meta to see what condition he is in. But not until he is stronger a bit, and the missing, irreparable parts are the bigger problem."

"I can't believe that… there is a whole planet with technological civilization around us. Is there no way to manufacture the parts that you need?"

"We don't have protoform-alloys, nor the means to manufacture or handle it, not to mention the necessary knowledge. The rest I might be able to fabricate from Earth materials, but this I cannot; if I tried that he would be crushed every time Ironhide patted him on the shoulder or the twins bumped into him on the corridor; it would be a torture for him, not a real existence. Earth metals are simply too weak and none of us is a metallurgist to invent new alloys."

"And on Cybertron…?"

"That is the only way I can imagine… but you know how long it would take, as we have no spaceship with us here. Close to a vorn at the very least, while Bumblebee would have no body and only a hardline connection to the outside world… I can't even connect a vocalizer so he could speak…"

Prowl maintained his calm façade with an effort, and only those who knew him well noticed the rage that was seething in the inside and made him hitch up his doorwings painfully. He stared at Ratchet's face resolutely as though waiting for some solution from the medic even though he knew that he could not work miracles – but still he couldn't accept that the Bumblebee as they knew him was as good as gone. Their relationship with Jazz and the spy was not an old one and therefore not really known by the crew of the Ark, but the command staff more or less knew about it. Jazz didn't speak at all while Ratchet gave them the bad news, couldn't look at Prowl either, only his visor was flashing through the spectrum from white to almost dark… he was alternately planning the revenge that he was going to visit on the Cons and the methods they might be able to get the necessary parts to fix Bumblebee… wait a klik…

"Ratchet… what about Skywarp's body that we brought in? It is practically undamaged. Can't you use those parts and alloys?"

"Jazz… don't you think we haven't thought of that? We cannot work with protoform metal, there is simply no way. We'd have to build a factory for it but we lack the knowledge for that too. The other parts... well, he is a damn sight bigger than Bee, you see?"

His one-klik long hope was crushed at once. None of them spoke for a long time afterwards, and the meeting was adjourned with no plans either, aside for getting some sleep and that in the next cycle Ratchet should try a direct connection to Bumblebee to see if his mind was there at all. Ratchet went to his quarters for some more high-grade to forget; he saw many horrible things in his long-long career but this one, well it might have topped the list forever. He never so a mech so damaged and still online, still wanting to live, keeping his spark going. Prowl and Jazz went to their shared quarters and held each other unmoving, in silence, desperately missing their lover… when they fell into recharge they both saw a nightmare; in it what remained of Bumblebee was floating from the med-bay towards them, trailing his wires, cables and fluids, dropping mangled parts and they backed off from it in horror and shut out his pleas to help… neither of them spoke of the dream the next cycle, although Jazz divulged the details of Bee's condition to the crew. It shocked everyone.


	2. Repaired

**Repaired**

**Bumblebee**

He was floating in a dark, featureless limbo that was surely the Well. Only if it was that then the pain should have gone away. He didn't want to be in the Well forever in agony, it was just not fair. Death should make pain go away. Shouldn't it? He never really gave much thought as to exactly what the Well would be like but he hoped for something a little bit better. Lighter too. With others whom he used to know. Friends who went before him. A body, however incorporeal. A kind of a place to be; if not even Cybertron but still… something. Somewhere. Was he going to be able to do nothing, say nothing, feel only pain forever? Then what was the point in dying? He had all this in the Cons' cell…

"_Bumblebee_?"

Oh good. At least he was not alone here. Now if only he could remember how to speak…?

"…_?… "_

Not really. It should be a bit more articulated. He tried again; not that it was easy with a body he couldn't feel and with all the pain that he could. Maybe this way…?

"_wksht_…?"

Still not exactly… he knew that he must have sounded more like a wheezing human steam-engine than himself. If he made this noise at all and not just wanted to…

"_Bumblebee, can you hear me_?"

Yes, hearing was not a problem the first time either. Answering to it, now that part apparently didn't work. Bumblebee fought to regain at least some feeling of his body but something strongly prevented it and he was suddenly tired, so tired, as the pain grew again when he fought for control over his body, or what was left of it… but couldn't achieve it and finally he gave up. It was apparently the solution; when he didn't try to connect to his body the pain lessened and he heard the voice again.

"_Can you hear me? Can you answer me somehow_?"

Bumblebee tried to think again. Was it really the Well? Now that he heard the voice more clearly it was suspiciously like Ratchet's and why would the medic be here if he died? Wouldn't it be more likely – and far more hopeful - if he was in the med-bay and Ratchet would try to communicate to him? If he was damaged heavily - and remembering the torture he knew that he was, only remembering it tried to drag him back into a screaming nightmare that he was hard put to push back – then the medic would try to directly connect to him through a data-port. Bumblebee didn't want to get the feel of his body again, he was afraid of what he would find, instead tried to identify the port and the protocol that conveyed the 'voice' to his CPU. It wasn't easy either but finally he thought he found it, and experimentally tried to send out an answer in the same way:

"_Ratchet?_"

"_Thank Primus Bumblebee! I started to think that you weren't there at all!_"

"_I just couldn't answer… I heard you before… is it really you? I thought I was in the Well…"_

"_It is me, don't worry, Bee. We got you out of the Nemesis… hardly in time though… Bee, I won't lie to you… it will be a very long time to repair your body._"

"_How long? I can't feel anything. Is it intentional?_"

"_Yes… because there is hardly anything left to feel and that would be painful too. And... a really long time. I haven't the parts here or the alloys…_"

"_Noooo… Ratchet… you don't mean it, do you? HOW LONG?_"

"_It depends, Bee… I am sorry but you need alloys that we only have on Cybertron… and we don't have the means to just go there you know it."_

"_How long, Ratchet…? Please…! Don't…!"_

"_Sleep now, Bee… you need to recharge…"_

**Ratchet**

Ratchet wasn't even ashamed that his servos shook while he disconnected the dataline and injected a strong sedative into the energon feed connected to the pitiful remains of what was once their friend, the cheerful and curious scout. Wheeljack was watching him from the opposite side of the table, supporting him with his compassion, but feeling the same as the medic… helplessness.

"He is there and his mind is as clear and functional as can be expected… I could sense no internal damage in the workings of his CPU. But his sanity won't last long without a body, he is already panicking."

"So we have his mind as healthy as we can expect it after being tortured; and his body that is totally useless and irreparable."

"Don't forget that we cannot even communicate with him, only through the data-port. And I can't keep him in forced recharge forever, it would damage his meta just as much as being without a body would. It is a no-win situation, I can't help him in any way... "

The medic and the inventor stared each other over the table until the silence grew heavy. It was broken by the unexpected sight of the twins dashing through the med-bay's doors, and speaking together so fast that Ratchet didn't understand a single word of what they babbled and was sorely tempted to bang something bigger than a wrench to their helms for breaking into their sorrowful mood with their excited blather.

"Stop it, you two! What are you doing here?"

It was Sunstreaker who answered at last, after silently conferring with his brother through their spark-bond, Sideswipe calming them both down as they saw the seriousness of the medic.

"Can't you transplant Bumblebee's spark and meta into that body there?"

He pointed to the grey body of the Seeker, lying almost forgotten in the med-bay proper on one of the tables. Ratchet started to refute the yellow twin's idea, but stopped halfway into it, fell silent and turned towards the inventor, who was staring back to him with calculating, thinking, computing optics… he went through the idea in his head, and grabbing a datapad started to input the thoughts that came up. Wheeljack came around, shooed the twins out with barely a 'we'll see…' to them and looked over Ratchet's shoulder to the datapad as he continued to mumble to himself.

"I've read about such transplants only in eons' old medical journals. And they were done with new protoforms similar to the old frame. Nothing about transplanting a tortured minibot's mind into a used, dead Seeker's body."

"That is a mental problem only I think – it is not like his spark cannot function in a bigger body."

"A bit more complex problem than that I am afraid…" But with that statement Ratchet also admitted that it was possible, even if risky and dangerous. But a chance none the less that they didn't have much so far…

**Prime**

Ratchet went through his list again, making sure he didn't forget anything. It would be a complex operation for sure but doable; but he needed to discuss the ramifications first with the command staff – and then with Bumblebee. He told Wheeljack to fix the Seeker's wings and extract his CPU and memory banks to hook them up with his medical computer; they would need quite a few things from them if they were to go ahead with this course of action. With that done he went to speak to the officers again… he tried to prepare Prowl to prevent him from freezing up his logic circuits but both of them still looked at him like he suggested to reformat the Prime into a toaster-oven or what… in any other circumstances he would have been tempted to laugh at their faces but this matter was far too serious for that.

"What? Make Bumblebee a Seeker?"

"We don't have much of a choice really. As I said earlier it might take as much as a vorn to fix his own body, and in the meanwhile his mind would deteriorate so much that it wouldn't help him at all. This way… well, I know it is a drastic solution but I can't find any better. That body is almost undamaged and if we can do the transplant within the next orn or so the chances of the successful integration are better than 90 %. Actually, it was the twins' idea, so the credit should go there – if we go through with it, that is."

Optimus was not sure what to think of the idea. Sure, he would want to see their youngest comrade again, but in the body of a Seeker? This, he was not so sure. Tactically it would be to their benefit to have one more competent flier in the ranks – in the case he would be a competent flier that is – but it was dangerously close to reprogramming a mech that the Cons did often with captured prisoners and what he would never condone. But on the other servo, this mech, Skywarp was dead without a doubt, even if his body was undamaged… so it wouldn't be a reprogram, they wouldn't kill a person, an individual; instead they could save one who otherwise would have a very dark future ahead. Simplifying the problem, they had one undamaged body without a person in it – and one undamaged mind without a body around it to sustain. Adding them together should not cause ethical issues – if the person, Bumblebee agrees to it obviously.

"Ratchet, have you made contact with Bumblebee? Have you told him this idea yet?"

"I could speak to him, yes, and he is in there, his CPU seems to be undamaged. But I haven't told him about this possibility."

"I'm trying ta imagine a Seeker!Bee. Kinda… huhh, interesting." Jazz was instinctly supporting the idea that would give Bee a chance for a real life instead of suffering in the med-bay for vorns with a deteriorating mind and no body. Pit, he wanted to see him in that body, now that the medic gave the idea.

"I see no ethical problems with such a transfer, if Bee agrees" – Prowl didn't dare to hope yet, the proposed solution was so far-fetched that it was just a remote possibility still – "But how could he adjust to being a Seeker? Isn't it too different from his own body to be able to adapt to it?"

"I think Prowl that if anyone can adapt ta such a change, it is Bee. Ya know how he is, how open and curious 'bout all strange things, like organics and their …. khm… fascinating differences."

"That is true. I think he could adjust to this change if he wants to. Even if it is a permanent one; I don't think I could 'downgrade' him after being a Seeker even for a short time. It is easier to add flight programs to a mech than take the flying out of one." - Ratchet agreed with Jazz completely that the scout has in fact had a quite adaptable nature and proved it in a number of situations on many planets. Having said their bits they looked to the Prime again; in a situation such as this it was his duty and responsibility to decide.

Optimus weighed their opinions carefully before deciding. The transplant would be a major change not only for the spy but to the rest of the crew as well, getting used to a Seeker in their ranks; even if in the inside it was their friend it would not be an easy task. The Cons would probably be outraged too if they learned how they used one of them; if not them all, but the Seekers for sure; Optimus knew quite a lot of their close ties in the trines and Skywarp was the member of Starscream's Command Trine. But the pros as he saw it outweighed the cons, and after all he had to see their own comrade's wellbeing first; Bee deserved a life and if this was what he wanted, he would make sure that the brave spy got it.

"Ratchet, I want you to contact Bee as soon as you can, and inform him about this option. Make sure that he understands the implications clearly and if he agrees… then do it."

**Thundercracker**

When Thundercracker onlined he felt like slag. Not that it was unusual after Hook's repairs, as the mech never used painkillers and didn't believe in painless repairs, but it still felt like a worse slag than usual. Oh yeah, after getting back to his quarters he drank a high-grade too. Maybe two. Or three. Or possibly more. Well, he was angry at Skywarp because of his irresponsibility, and he meant that he was more angry than usual, especially as the teleporter didn't get back to their shared room even after his patrol ended. He was probably still sulking somewhere, petulant from his angry scolding the previous cycle… no matter, he would forget it in a few joors and come back to placate him and they would make it up for it with some salacious games… a sudden, sharp pain ripped into his spark and the blue Seeker sat up on his berth with a worried frown. Something was not right. More than that, something was definitely wrong, now that the acute pain woke him up fully.

He must find Skywarp. Thundercracker didn't know where that thought came from or why, only that he simply must find his lover right then, pull him out of the hole he had hidden himself, and see… simply see that he was there. He was running into the Command Center and not caring about Megatron's suspicious glance at him, demanded Dirge who was on monitor duty to tell him when Skywarp came back from patrol. When the mech said that he didn't see Skywarp at all the Seeker all but froze in place – before running again, this time to the common room where Long Haul, the night shift for monitor duty sat with his gestalt-mates. But he didn't see the black and purple jet coming back either and Thundercracker started to feel the sharp pain again in his spark. His last hope was Starscream who was in his own quarters, and sneered at him angrily when TC all but broke the door in his hurry to get in.

"Have you seen Skywarp at all since the battle?"

"No, I haven't, and nor have I wanted to. The bumbler is better hiding before I tear his wings for his incompetence."

"Screamer, I have a really bad feeling about it…"

"Do I look like someone who cares? Your mate and you left me in the slag quite enough times for not really giving the frag about you."

Maybe it was a mistake to call him on that hated nickname just then. Maybe it was a mistake never to back him up against Megatron. No, that last one was no mistake; no sane mech stood up to him and lived unless he went by the name of Starscream. If he could be called sane anyway. Thundercracker left his Trine leader's quarters and went back to ask permission from Megatron to try and find his wingmate. He flew over Skywarp's designated patrol area five times but he could find no remains, no signs, absolutely nothing that would give him a clue about the teleporter's whereabouts. Only the pain intensified in his spark all the time. He flew back to Nemesis and reported what he found – or rather what he didn't. Skywarp was MIA – but Thundercracker deep down knew that he was more than that – dead.

**Bumblebee**

Floating again… he was tired again, even though he just came online. But at least this time he remembered where he was… that he was not dead anyway. It was Ratchet last time, talking to him… no that was not a good thing to remember. Not that he had a lot of good things to remember. Prowl… Jazz… the twins… the others… he was not going to remember the Cons, not if he could help it. Not if he wanted to remain sane. Bumblebee floated in the darkness, pushing back the clamoring images of his nightmare, remembering only the good things. He felt the ghost of his lovers' servos, he heard pleasant conversations with friends, he recalled driving with Sam… until Ratchet would connect again and tell him more what passed in the outside world. He could do it. He must. For however long it takes.

"_Bumblebee?"_

"_I hear you Ratchet."_

"_Are you all right? I am sorry to put you under before, but I couldn't let you panic."_

"_I'm… all right now. I try to fill my mind with good memories. You know, to pass the time. There isn't much here that I can do…"_

"_I know… and I am sorry. But we have a proposition for you. It is… well unorthodox, but the only thing we could come up with…I want you to consider it carefully before answering, okay? And we would not do anything without you agreeing to it, is that clear?"_

"_What is it? You scare me a bit with all those warnings…"_

"_Umm… as I told you last time, your body as it is now is basically unsalvageable. What we came up with is a risky process but doable: transplanting your CPU, memory banks and spark into a different body."_

"_That…that does sound risky Ratchet… and where'd you get a new body for me? I don't think the Ark stores full, working mech bodies…"_

"_That is the main problem, yes. But we have one such right on the next table in the med-bay… but you might not like it much. "_

"_Why Ratchet? Is it a Con…? I think it would be something of a poetic justice in fact if it is that…"_

"_You are perceptive… it was a Con. A Seeker to be exact."_

"_WHAT?"_

"_Yes, you heard right. Mirage shot him down during a patrol, and the body is totally intact. That is why we have it here… and that is your chance to get a body again soon. I know that it is a great leap to become suddenly a Seeker, but… well, think of it. Prime has given the go-ahead if you agree."_

"_But Ratchet, I know nothing of flying! And I…for frag's sake I would be at least three times bigger than … before…"_

"_The flying part, well, we can pull the flight protocols and all that you'd need from Skywarp's CPU and memory banks. The size… well, you can get used to it slowly; we all think that you can adjust to being different. We trust you that you can do it if you want." _

"_Uhh… Ratchet, I… I just don't know. But I don't want to lie here for… for a long time with all the memories and not knowing anything of what happens outside…is there really no way to repair me…?"_

"_No, Bee, I am afraid, there is no other way… and I think that you'd not be able to remain sane for vorns in this state. I'll be honest with you: this transplant might be risky and hard to adjust to, but it is your best chance to come out of it and, well, continue living. On the sunny side of things, you can take it as an adventure. Seekers are… well, interesting to say at least."_

"_Uhh… well, I guess I don't want to be a pile of scrap metal. A… a Seeker body is way better than that. Ratchet… I want you to do the transplant. Just… uhh… if it goes all right… well, could you ask Sunny to paint it to something nicer than black and purple? I don't think I want to be reminded of Skywarp any more than I must and I guess it would go better with the others too."_

"_Sure thing Bee. And… If you want to… I mean mechs who get reformatted usually change their designation too…"_

"_No! I want to remain Bumblebee… so far at least…" _

"_Okay. I'll put you under again. We have to prepare the transplant, because the sooner we do it, the better chances of integration you'll have. So if you have no other questions, we won't wake you up again before the operation, okay?"_

"_So soon? Uhh, I guess it is okay… it IS permanent, isn't it Ratchet?"_

"_Yes, it will be most likely a permanent change. Once you get used to a Seeker body, to flying, I don't think you could go back to being a grounder, even if it was possible."_

"_Yeah, I get that…"_

"_It will be fine, Bee. Believe me you'll pull through just fine."_

"_Okay then…"_

**Ratchet**

Once Ratchet disconnected from Bumblebee and put him into recharge again, he was looking at Wheeljack with more hope in his optics that he showed for orns. They had a lot of work ahead and they could waste no time now; every breem decreased the chances for a successful integration by degrees. The Seeker body was prepped for transplant, hooked up into basic life-support and repaired to perfection, including toning the optic covers down to blue; Ratchet commed Sunstreaker to draw him into painting it to Bee's colours which the yellow twin accepted with glee, spreading the news at the same time in the rec-room if Ratchet heard him right. Which was just as well, he thought, the crew will have to adjust just as much as Bumblebee to this situation and the more time they have to get used to the idea the better they could prepare for it.

The next thing would be to separate the programs and protocols that Bee would need for the body without having Skywarp's memories intruding on them; and Ratchet knew this to be the most difficult of the whole preparation. He drafted Skyfire in for the job, as the big shuttle was not only a competent programmer, but a flier too who'd definitely know what to take and what to leave out – and together it only took them a joor to do the job. He and Wheeljack put together a temporary case with spark support and to hold his meta together and alive while between the two bodies.

Afterwards Ratchet took care of recharging a full night cycle and refuel properly; the operation would require them to be in top condition, because it allowed for no mistakes whatsoever; working with spark, CPU and generally what made them what they were was no joke. Arriving to the med-bay his optics were immediately drawn to something huge and impossibly yellow on the table; Sunstreaker painted the Seeker into almost exactly to Bee's colours, yellow and black; only with some beautiful gold details that made it shone like Earth's Sun, and look even bigger than with the original dark colouring. Well, it will take some time to get used to... Ratchet could almost laugh by this time as the bright yellow allowed no dark thoughts and he was more optimistic than he dared to for the last few orns. Wheeljack on the other servo was downright nervous, just like Skyfire who was there to check that the programming was settling properly; Perceptor was as usual calm and focused. Most of the crew, who weren't on patrol or other duty hang out in the rec-room, drawing strength from each other and straining to catch any news from the med-bay… remaining so for the rest of the cycle. Optimus too came by a few times and he was deeply touched by the unity that his crew showed in support of their friend.

The transplant took almost three joors and most of it was taken up by the still incredibly damaged internals of Bumblebee getting in the way and threatening to give out at any klik. They had to move all main components, the spark, CPU and memory banks together so they would not lose connection to each other and it was incredibly difficult to handle; even the custom-designed equipment was almost not enough to manage it. When they got them out of the irreparable body they all felt something like death hanging around… technically and spiritually Bee's old body, or as much as remained of it died at that nanoklik. They moved the temporary holding case over the Seeker's body and the second part of the operation began; to settle and integrate Bee's mind into the new frame.

Surprisingly it went without a single problem, and when Bumblebee's glowing blue spark slowly sank in the spark chamber, and after a few little fluctuations it settled into its rhythmical pulsing Ratchet first dared to hope that the transplant would be successful… he knew best after reading up on the matter that until this point a thousand things could have gone wrong, and each of them would have been fatal. After closing up the chest plates, it was Skyfire's turn at the medical computer connected to the body with a dozen cables to see to the necessary programs and protocols and check if Bee's own system was settling in programming-wise too. When he was ready and they have all checked everything twice more the medic and scientists looked at each other with a quiet satisfaction; they did their best for their comrade… and now they only had to wait for Bee to came online on his own; the sedative was disconnected, and Wheeljack went to the rec room to tell the others that the operation was successful.


	3. New

Note: Although I loved Deathcomes4you's story about Seeker!Bee, I must state that his was working on a totally different concept than mine. The only definite thing I continued/borrowed from his works is the Bee-Prowl-Jazz threesome that I found beneficial to my plot.

Warning: a bit of the mentioned threesome is in here, but not in a detailed manner.

* * *

><p><strong>New<strong>

Bumblebee

Floating still. That means they haven't started this… transplantation yet. Another cycle or so then to spend with memories then, until Ratchet connects and they could talk. So Bumblebee dreamt on… the sun's warmth on his faceplates, the long-lost skyline of Iacon, the starry nights of Earth, a sharp wind streaking by his wingtips… a what? Where did that come from? Bumblebee tried to drag himself up from the pleasant floating and suddenly found himself in an entirely foreign place… all strange angles and huge, echoing halls whispering with ghostlike voices, winds and invisible movements. Moving was flying here and Bee loved it immediately; it was instinctive, it was marvelous, it was effortless – it was like nothing else he has ever felt. Not that moving changed the place though, no matter moving around he remained there, the place that was unfamiliar but oddly he still knew it, because … because it was not a place. It was… it was him. And with that thought Bumblebee unexpectedly found and unshuttered the optics, and everything else suddenly fell into its place. He lay on a med-bay table, looking up at the ugly orange ceiling of the Ark – since when did he find it ugly, his mind asked quietly – and felt like… felt like huge and heavy. Next he felt the wings that he dreamt of and they twitched in response, and he saw Ratchet moving to stand by the table and a rare smile played on the medic's normally stiff or scowling lip-plates…

"How are you?"

He found his vocalizer and tried to speak – it was still not fully automatic, he needed to think consciously of what he wanted to achieve, find the systems that could do it and reaction was sluggish, slow, inadequate, fraught with undefined aches everywhere…

"I… I think I am… sort of fine. Just… slow. Everything is sluggish."

"And it is not my voice, isn't it Ratchet?"

"Actually, yes, it is your voice." Ratchet allowed himself a small laugh at the incredulous face that the bright yellow Seeker produced… _it is Bee, remember, not 'a seeker' it is Bumblebee!_ But still he was glad that he could laugh even if it was at such a small thing. Indeed the voice was strange, all sibilants and with sharp, hard accent that was totally unlike the spy's normal speech pattern. But he knew that he should not show any distaste hearing it, as Bee had to get used to that too.

"Oww…" Bumblebee tried to sit up, enjoying being able to move after so much time of confined into his mind, and suddenly knew why he felt huge and heavy. Because he was huge and heavy, and it took three tries and Ratchet's help to sit up on the table and not keel over when his wings, that seemed to move all the time on their own, drew him to one side. He almost panicked then, and only stopped it because he instinctly realized that with such a huge body, such sensitive wings and his disorientation to boot it would definitely not be a good idea to panic. For the next few orns he kept that thought firmly in the forefront of his mind – he needed it. Even though Ratchet and Wheeljack assured him that he was integrating nicely into the new body and that it would all get better fast, he didn't really feel like either integrated or adjusted; his memory insisted on a totally different and much smaller frame, his meta kept saying that he had no body at all, being damaged and probably delirious, while he was trying to cope with something huge and clumsy – while he used to be a lot of things but never clumsy, and it was the worst of the lot.

He barely managed to sit unassisted and trying to talk some just to get used to Skywarp's voice – _no, it was his own voice now, not the Seeker's, he is dead_ – when Ratchet thought it fitting to let some visitors in. The first ones were Prowl and Jazz, both smiling hugely and he couldn't help but answer to them with a smile of his own, it was so good a feeling to see them at last, even as they looked so much smaller to him now that it gave him a double vision for a few kliks while his memory and his optics argued over the view. But then Ratchet found something to do in the opposite corner of the med-bay and when Jazz peeked at the medic and saw that he was turning his back at them, he stole a quick hug across the yellow waist. Bumblebee loved the feeling that was for a change the same as before and tried to hug him back – but he still had a lot of trouble with coordinating his body and his clawed hand – _clawed… riiight… gotta be mindful of that too_ - ripped uncontrollably into a gap between the plates on Jazz's chassis.

"Now, now, wait with the frivolous moves for a few orns yet, Bumblebee, all right?" - Ratchet apparently had optics on his back too and he blushed madly, but Jazz was laughing, not at all distraught by the probably a bit painful touch; the medic warned them all to expect him to be fairly uncoordinated for a while at first. Prowl was smiling too in a way that was for him a huge grin, and hugged him from the other side – a rare public display of affection from the normally so reserved tactician.

"It will take a little while to get used to you being the bigger one, Bee." But he was smiling and Bumblebee didn't take the remark to spark either.

"It will take a while to me too" - he answered in his still strange voice – "But it is still better than feeling nothing. I missed you two…"

"Oh, Bee we are so sorry…"

"_Now, just don't even start to remind him of his captivity, we really don't need that!_" Ratchet commed to them angrily – "_I told you to give him positive feedback or you'll be thrown out!_"

"On the other servo you do look great!" - exclaimed Jazz suddenly, trying to make up for his mistake that the medic pointed out to him privately. – "Sunny had done a marvelous job with your colours – you must be the brightest Seeker ever created."

"Yeah, the colour looks great – and so I must be the brightest and the clumsiest Seeker on Earth now. I rather hope that Ratchet disabled the warp generator or I would totally loose myself between two steps."

"No more than Skywarp I guess; I have seen the Constructicons extracting him from a wall after a bad warp many times. But the difference is I guess that you will get better at it, while he never did."

"I sure hope so…"

"We will practice movements. All of them." Jazz grinned in a way that made Bumblebee go hotter in the faceplates; even as he was fairly sure that the exhibitionist Seeker has never produced that colour on his face in his whole life.

"All right sparklings, it was enough for a cycle. Others want to see Seeker!Bee too."

"Right Bee, we gotta go. We'll visit ya soon enough again; as much as Ratchet allows or we can sneak in here."

After that it was a steady stream of visitors and curious mechs who wanted to see Bumblebee as a Seeker and he kept valiantly answering to all the strangest questions and tried to keep his movements sedate so he wouldn't hurt anyone or look too much of a bumbler. But he got tired real fast, even though his tank was satisfyingly full, and Ratchet caught his mood too; he shooed the Autobots out of medbay and told him to lie back and recharge as much as he needed – his systems apparently needed quite a lot of it while settling in and he was glad to sink into a dreamless defrag.

Thundercracker

He was either going slowly mad or everyone else around him did the same. It was like Skywarp had never even existed outside his imagination or that nobody cared about him; but even several orns after he disappeared there was no search, no questions as to what became of him, only Megatron boredly ordering Starscream to requisition a new Seeker from Cybertron to fill up the Command Trine. Starscream himself didn't give a damn either, like he really didn't care – and it hurt the blue Seeker more than anything else. They drifted away from each other during the war and their friendship was a thing of the past for a long time, but they still kept up the Trine bond – or so he thought. He was not so sure any more. He felt alone, sad and separate; something he never felt since his sparklinghood, never since he had the Trine around him, supporting him, defending him and all of them… but he lost Skywarp and now Starscream too as he showed how little he cared about the Trine lately. Thundercracker did his duty automatically, fought when he was ordered to, refueled because he was hungry and recharged because he was tired; but he felt no goal driving him any more. He kept flying over the forested hills where Skywarp last flew but he has long given up hope of finding him or his remains; only did it to remember him by. Just as he kept his things in their quarters, playing absently with the broken pieces and assorted junk, not even noticing as he sank further every orn into his ever-present depression that was always kept in check by his lover's whirlwind love of life and cheeky blitheness. But others noticed it, and Starscream asked for two capable Seekers from Cybertron instead of one; Thundercracker and Skywarp might not have been bonded but the blue Seeker was apparently going as fast after his dead mate, like they were.

Bumblebee

Again he dreamt about flying and it became commonplace every time he recharged. From one side of things it was not surprising, considering that the wings on his back comprised the strangest and literally the biggest difference from his previous frame; but on the other servo he should have no memories of flying yet that his dreams could draw from. Pit, he hasn't even left the med-bay yet since the change. Still, Bumblebee didn't complain much as the flying dreams nicely overcame the more horrid memories of the torture and he wasn't asking those back. His online joors were still mostly spent by learning to… well, walking and not crashing into things with his wings; the Aerialbots who came to visit him once laughed so hard at his complaints about the wings that Ratchet started throwing wrenches at them, and he almost never did that with the still youngling-like fliers. After all that it must have been an accident that he fell onto Slingshot who was – as usual – quite rude and squashed up his wings a bit. Just a bit really. He was much nicer afterwards. Bumblebee knew, like everyone on the Ark that the Aerialbots still considered the Seekers almost like their personal heroes; no matter that they were on the other side and they learned to fight against them seriously, but still Seekers were the rulers of the skies; it was such a long-held and deep belief that nothing could shake from their young minds. He was glad that they only transferred a bit of this hero-worship on him and he was sure that they would lose that bit too when he would first try to fly. After all if his movements on the ground were any indication, he would be an absolute bumbler in the air too.

He grew restless though after a few orns spent in the med-bay that almost became his home and Ratchet encouraged him to walk around the Ark and reinforce his friendship with people regardless of his frame. He was glad that Wheeljack took the care of re-toning his optics to blue, and rearrange the sinister faceplates into something more friendly-looking – it was enough to look generally Seekerlike, he didn't needed the vicious-looking face of Skywarp too. Even so, the first time he decided to go to the rec-room he stood for almost a breem before the door and only entered when he heard some mechs coming up at the corridor. Nobody gave him the usual slag about Seekers as yet, but he was still a bit nervous, especially as none of the minibots has visited him so far – and so he was quite relieved seeing the twins sitting at one table with Bluestreak in tow. He made his way towards them carefully, picking up some energon from the dispenser, and they welcomed him just as naturally as before. It made him suspicious out of long habit – the twins, Sideswipe in particular almost never behaved naturally or as someone would expect them to, unless they were up to something.

Sunstreaker

Sunstreaker watched Seeker/Bee approaching their table critically. He looked good – how not to with his best paintjob for a long time – but he still moved very awkwardly, even after orns of practicing it. The toughliner knew of course where that came from, that Bee's memory was insisting on being a much smaller and totally differently proportioned frame while his CPU was trying to assert the Seeker body; but to him it seemed that they went all the wrong way about the problem. The more he tried to control himself, the less he was managing it the way movement should be done – instinctly. When he voiced his opinion Sideswipe agreed immediately, seeing his conviction through their link and being similarly action-inclined as his brother; and Bumblebee saw the truth in it too when pointed out.

"How would you go about it then Sunny?" he asked with that curious little tilt of his helm that was the most Bumblebee-ish mannerism that he retained.

"Well… if Ratchet lets you, you should come to the sparring room and let us try some Jet Judo on you." - he smirked at Bee's almost horrified expression, and the instinctive, defensive twitch of his wings that – just as Skyfire said – were expressing his feelings far better than his voice or his faceplates. It was not only interesting to watch, but he was quite eager to lay a servo or two on those beautiful appendages. But he wouldn't push the yellow mech that way, not after what happened to him in the Con torture cell. Sparring would be different, although almost as satisfying. He became aware of his brother staring him with an almost comically surprised expression, and remark through their bond:

"_You know I've never seen you considering someone else's comfort or wellbeing like this before. Softening up, ehh, Sunny?_"

"_Frag off Sides. It is Bee._"

"_Oh…kay… until I see you again taking Bluestreak's shift because you tire him out again…_"

Outsiders almost never knew afterwards what ticked off them and caused Sunstreaker to growl at his red twin and chase him throughout the Ark's corridors. After all they never bothered to tell others just how much they conversed through the bond, shielded from everyone else in the universe. But Bumblebee knew them a bit by then and didn't take it personally that he was left there with the laughing Bluestreak who immediately fired off at about a dozen words per nanoklik chattering about what he has ever known of Seekers. Still the training sounded good and he would definitely ask Ratchet about it; he too could feel that the whole adjusting thing was a bit off. The medic immediately saw the sense in Sunstreaker's words and he was only worried by the twins taking the sparring a bit far which he would have to fix afterwards. But he gave them the go-ahead, and in the next cycle a very nervous Bumblebee headed down to the training area with what looked like a small crowd in tow; because of which he was fairly sure that he would die of embarrassment far before the twins finished with him. He never liked to draw attention and this didn't change; he didn't feel the exhibitionism that Seekers were famous for, even so much as stirring in him.

The sparring room was of course packed with mechs both practicing or attempting to and with watchers; and the waiting twins reminded Bumblebee uncomfortably to a pair of smiling Sharkticons, with optics that were not unlike how Starscream watched him after he was captured… he very nearly turned back there and then. But after a suppressed shudder that he hoped that the onlookers missed, he took hold of his quailing meta and strode in with hopefully enough visible bravado to fool everyone. Not Sunstreaker though obviously, who looked at him with an amused twinkle in the cerulean optics, but turned serious after a klik of uncomfortable silence from the nervously huffing Seeker. He looked so much like his old self at that klik, never mind the wings and the rest…

"Now, Bee the thing is, try not to think of your movements so much. You think that you have to, but if you just let yourself relax, believe me, your body will know what to do. Not that Seekers are much good on the ground… but we can still make you a competent fighter if you let us."

Bumblebee

The twins launched themselves at him as soon as they got into the sparring ring, and Bumblebee really didn't have time for thinking out a defense even if he wanted to; but Sunny was right, his body knew how to sidestep one and trip the other, even though Sideswipe stepped over his pede and whirling around kicked out towards his midriff. Bee used his thrusters to back off from his range and pull on the yellow twin's arm to crash him into his brother, but he was more than ready for it and using his pull hit him in the face hard with the free servo. Bee was momentarily surprised that he didn't go down after a punch from the toughliner, but realized at once that now he could take more than before and retaliated at once. Unfortunately his arms were no match for the twins' in strength as he discovered; jets were really not designed with servo-to-servo fighting in mind. Although he was moving with more ease than he did for the last few orns, with the bigger frame he still lost most of his former agility and nimbleness, and with that his fighting style that he built on those was totally useless now. Discovering his new frame's limits for the first time he also realized that Skywarp had probably never fought an opponent on the ground and so had no reflexes that would work there. It was logical, he thought, any jet meeting a melee fighter on the ground would immediately take off and retaliate with ranged weapons; if not being able to take off then it was already too damaged to fight either.

But the twins really took it easy on him, he noticed with not a little gratitude, even as he went down yet another time; although he got quite a few punches and even more painful hits and pulls on his wings he soon discovered that he enjoyed the exercise and that movement was really falling into place as well. Just as Sunstreaker predicted, as soon as he stopped worrying about it, and let his body move instinctly as it should, he was nothing of the clumsy bumbler that he was afraid of becoming lately. It more than worth those few dents that the twins put into his chassis for the lesson and even Ratchet didn't bang his helmet with a wrench so far for having to fix them. After a few cycles' worth of sparring with them and some others he developed a healthy regard for the twins' fighting abilities, decided firmly that Seekers were in general absolutely right for not engaging sparring with crazed melee warriors like them, and he would do it only as an absolutely last resort too; but regained his comfort with the abilities of his new body. He was secretly glad though that the Cons didn't have any warriors who employed Jet Judo.

Fortified with his newfound confidence with the movements and finally discharged from the med-bay Bumblebee sought out Prowl in his office to discuss the particulars of his position. It was obvious that as a Seeker he couldn't continue with his previous Spec. Ops job of spying so they had to find him a new role to fit in. Prowl first of all allocated him new quarters where he could be alone; they both agreed that stressing Cliffjumper with a Seeker roommate was not something they'd want to contemplate. The minibots mostly didn't take his transformation smoothly although they weren't loud about it either; Bumblebee used to be one of them and it counted for something in their CPUs, but still they rather kept away from him. Once that was arranged they agreed that he should resume light duties first, like monitors and comm, before they would assign him to any of the department; in time he would probably end up with the Aerialbots, although that also meant sorting out aerial ranks. But eventually they would have to go through that, they both knew.

That done, Prowl and the suddenly appearing Jazz helped him to transfer his belongings to his new quarters… Settling in and quietly talking with them in the spacious room, Bumblebee knew with total certainty that neither of them would push him for anything he wasn't ready to do; but he realized that seeing them so close brought up absolutely no other memories but their love and intimacy. With a sudden movement he gathered them both close for a scorching hug and their touch felt like fire in his circuitry… especially when the two pairs of familiar servos started to cautiously discover the wide expanse of the wings, the ailerons, the flaps… he lost all rational thought soon enough after that.

"Are you sure Bee?" – Prowl was trying hard to hold himself back and ascertain that the yellow jet was not wary of their touches, not flinching of their caress… he loved hearing the moans that he gave when they stroked the wings that were really as sensitive and loveable as the stories said and discovered his body anew.

"Absolutely…" Bumblebee felt nothing but desire now and gasping under the perfect touches of his lovers, moaned into the kiss that Jazz planted on his lip-plates and gave it back, mindful only of the fangs and claws that he had to be careful with still. He had to adjust his technique somewhat, as he was unable to fit the far larger, clawed fingers into the armor-gaps like before; not that his lovers gave him many opportunities to reciprocate as they expertly teased him into delirious ecstasy with hardly touching anything but his wings. But he realized soon why Seekers were famous for their prowess in 'facing; he was no slouch before either in the berth, but in this body he felt like he could, would and loved to go on for… well orns at least. Of course they didn't have quite that much time to devote to pleasurable activities, but they made do – and fell into recharge in a happily tangled web of arms, legs and wings on his berth that was fortunately wide enough for them to do so comfortably. Prowl came online once during the night cycle when he felt the wings quivering against his chassis; he thought that it was a memory flux, and started to comfort Bumblebee, but the sounds he made were definitely not coming from pain. He was interested to hear after they all came online that all he dreamt about these days were flying, and that he didn't have a single bad memory flux since the transplant. Either they were connected more to the frame than it was thought or the flying dreams completely overrode them; in any case, the jet said, he was not counting his luck, happy to enjoy it.

The next orn he finally felt confident enough to try flying – the last thing that he had to get used to if he wanted to utilize his new frame to its fullest capability. Only Skyfire and Silverbolt accompanied him to the outside; for this he wanted no audience and the two fliers – the calm, big shuttle and the Concord, far too much used to inexperienced fliers were enough to help him out if something went wrong. Transforming was the first surprise – the F-22 Raptor felt comfortably like a second skin and he wasted no time to take off… and suddenly he felt like in the dreams. No matter where they came from, no matter if they were most probably Skywarp's memories and no matter his worries beforehand; flying was a bliss, pure ecstasy that was almost better than 'facing. It was effortless too, or almost so; he only had to think of a maneuver or whatever he wanted to do and the flight protocols translated them into barrel rolls, loops, corkscrews and dives… he instinctly felt the still missing weaponry too, when the same programs suggested on their use during the maneuvers. For the next joor Bumblebee happily played with the newfound freedom of the air, until his HUD started to display the warning for low fuel levels and he knew he had to get back. So without thinking any more, acting purely on instincts he sort of stretched out, found an annoying obstacle inside, removed it, dumped his speed with a Cobra, transformed in the air and… in a flash of yellow light appeared at the Ark's entrance, next to the shocked Skyfire and Silverbolt. Not that he was any less surprised…

"I didn't know that you've unlocked the teleporting system-codes?"

"Well… I haven't yet… but apparently it wasn't such a great obstacle that you changed the code literally on the fly." - Skyfire smiled at Bumblebee. – "I am glad to see that you obviously have no problem with flying and seem to be enjoying it too."

"Ohh… well, yeah, I must admit flying is … uhh, nothing short of amazing. I've been dreaming about it for a while, but reality is even better."

Skyfire

"Bee… if you'd like, I can offer some insights to Skywarp's mentality that might help you with what you did with teleport codes." – the big shuttle offered quietly to the distraught Seeker, who looked at him with interest and curiosity in his optics. Teleporting the first time in his life, and doing it unplanned to boot apparently shook him a bit, even if he was trying to act nonchalant.

"Yes… I know where these unexpected things come from, but I definitely need to understand them more."

"And if we may, I think it would be beneficial if my gestalt could listen in too." Silverbolt himself wasn't totally above the adulation that his brothers felt towards the Seekers, no matter how hard he tried to suppress it. Skyfire tried not to smile at him – he knew exactly how all the Aerialbots were about Seekers. They moved back to the Ark, converging at the big back part of the rec-room where the bigger fliers usually gathered; most often than not quite literally in a cuddle pile. The place was set up especially for the comfort of those with wings; the wide chairs and recliners gave plenty of clearance and soft surfaces for the sensitive appendages and the tall bar-stools around some tables resembled to Seeker bars. The rest of the gestalt joined them soon, and after some snide sniping, elbowing, a lot of giggling and general ruckus they quieted down to listen to Skyfire.

"Now, where to start it… ah, yes that instinctive coding that you just did. It was one of Skywarp's many peculiarities, to work with his own coding without thinking, doing it purely by feel; most often than not he made a mess of it too and his trinemates, usually Starscream had to straighten it out. To you, Bee, it means that we will keep an eye on your programming, and check it from time to time. But I don't think you'll do it as excessively as he used to."

"Skywarp was really stupid, wasn't he?" - Slingshot of course didn't miss the opportunity to make an insulting comment, even if it was only pointed to the dead Seeker; not that he had a lot of respect for Bumblebee so far. The gestalt hasn't seen him flying yet, only Silverbolt.

"Well, that is a matter of perspective really. Skywarp had a perfectly average processor, in fact huge memory banks and a lot of raw computing power; many said that he behaved stupidly because all these were almost completely tied up with his navigation system, which was the most complex of any flier that I have seen so far. He needed it for the teleportation of course; it requires a very complex awareness of space and movement. But that is only part of the answer; after all he didn't warp all the time, while the computing power was always there to use. But you must consider the Trine mechanisms too if you want to understand it. Trines are bonded for life, just like gestalts, and within the formation, each member specializes and contributes his or her specialty to the perfect working of the unit. In the late Command Trine Starscream was the mind, being by far the most intelligent Seeker I had the fortune to know; Thundercracker could have been a philosopher with all his deep thoughts, if not for the war; and between them Skywarp didn't need to think a lot, just follow orders."

"But what was his specialty then? The warping?"

"No, it was deeper than that. The other two, well, they have always been far too serious or even uptight, and it fell to Skywarp to lighten them up with his carefree personality, his humour and even his pranks. He frequently had to play a kind of a safety valve for the other two's bottled-up personalities."

"See, Silverbolt? SEE? The pranks ARE NEEDED for something!" - Air Raid couldn't keep his glee to himself, and the rest of the gestalt also smirked and whooped at his outburst.

"But Skywarp was more than just a prankster… he often looked… mad I think. Totally erratic." – Skydive had quite a lot of experience with that as he needed to try and plan a strategy for them just to see it fouled by the teleporter's purely spur of the moment acting.

"Yes, I think he turned quite mad a while ago… you see those who always act without thinking, get used to it because someone else does that for of them and don't care about the consequences - those usually end up erratic, uncontrollable, giving in to their darker streak… and yes, in time and especially in wartime eventually go mad."

The usually careless Aerialbots were eerily quiet and glancing at each other after hearing that; Fireflight, whose short attention span was almost legendary on the Ark was especially taking it into spark and deciding to work on thinking more, even if it hurt his head. He didn't particularly want to end up like Skywarp whom he used to be more than a bit afraid of. Skyfire could almost read their thoughts from the nervous quivering of the variously coloured wings around him, and he was trying his best not to laugh at it; it would take all the good effect out of the lesson. He left them finally to their usual cuddling as they tried to comfort each other. He didn't think that Bumblebee would have any problem with not thinking enough; while the former spy was not an intellectual powerhouse but he had plenty of plain common sense and never hesitating to use it either. As for his flying… well in the air, he moved like Skywarp through and through; anyone competent enough could realize that. Maybe in time he would assert his own personality onto his flying style too, just as they started to notice his old movements and mannerisms emerge one by one while on the ground. But all in all they, who secretly watched the jet very carefully, were all glad that there seemed to be no distinct 'Skywarp-persona' emerging in his behaviour. This they have been afraid of and tried to prevent with including as little of his personal memories as they could get away with; and so far it seemed to be working.


	4. Changing

Note: Silverstorm and Whipping Star are kinda OCs, 'cause I don't remember any such Seekers in the canon.**  
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* * *

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Thundercracker

He stayed over the plant as Starscream ordered him, to cover the Constructicons from the Autobot ground troops, and he was glad that neither of the twins was around to annoy him with their Jet Judo; they were probably harassing the Coneheads somewhere on the flanks. Screamer was nowhere in the air, the raid was his idea apparently, and so he was supervising his device that was supposed to collect them energon from the human power plant – the routine for these raids were starting to annoy him greatly as no matter which one of them planned it they all went the same way; a miraculous device or weapon in a human plant, scaring the squishies, the arrival of the Autobots, the exchange of some shots and blows, especially between their mighty leaders and the retreat with far less energon than they expected, sans the mystery device.

Thundercracker sometimes thought that he could manage it while in recharge too, it was all so the same every time. Except for Skywarp. Thinking of him still felt like an open, festering wound in his spark, and it was dangerous in battle as he realized; it made him slower, sluggish and he always collected some impressive damage when it happened. Like now… the wound was hurting like Pit and the blue Seeker awoke totally from his depression and memories to fight with the pull of gravity; but his left wing was scrunched up like mangled bellows on an accordion and he lost one turbine with a whole lot of circuitry on his left side. What the frag have they shot him with? Not that he had a lot of time to wonder about that, the ground has been close to begin with and maybe that was fortunate, because he couldn't transform and he was going to hit it sometime about… now.

Silverstorm

He didn't want to leave Cybertron. Most definitely not for a Pit-accursed organic planet with Starscream for Trine leader and on the same planet as Megatron, who by the rumours was not only violent, ruthless and brilliant but also paranoid, tyrannical and… well, borderline insane. But orders were orders and one never questioned those; and advancement in rank was supposed to be an honour, even if it meant that fragging excuse for a Seeker as his new Commander. Ohh, the rest of the Seekers were quite envious that he was going to belong to the Command Trine, and he had to be on his toes for assassination attempts to forestall it; but so far he could see only one positive thing in it: that Whipping Star was going with him too – he wouldn't bear to be separated from him ever again. Silverstorm grudgingly acknowledged to himself one more good thing about it; no matter how obnoxious Starscream was, he was the best flier of the ranks, and they might be able to learn from him. So, there he was, packed up with his meager belongings that he wanted to take there, and waiting for the order to go; it took a wormhole to get there and it fluctuated wildly and erratically so they would have to leave the skylab on the klik's notice.

He spent the last orn by gathering information about the Earth crew and if they were true, then he and his brother would need to be on their toes all the time, because it sure looked like a Pithole the more he knew about it. To be honest he didn't join the Decepticon army because he was soft-sparked or for fair-play, but still he thought that mechs should have morals even in an eons old war, especially his kind, the Seekerkin. He never believed that ends justified the means, plain and simple, even if he was alone in the army with that sort of a philosophy; but he felt that he was not alone with his beliefs either, even if these sort of things never got voiced aloud. All of what by the rumours were next to nonexistent among the Earth crew…

Starscream

"It was your fault again!" and the unavoidable roar of the plasma cannon against his chassis, the offlining and the awakening in the repair-bay… Starscream was used to it by now. Never liked it of course, but it was the way things were, and it was his place to be blamed, no matter that it was almost always the 'Mighty Leader' botching up the plans and not giving a frag to his objections. The Seeker went to his quarters, nursing the fresh welds on his fuselage, contemplating the time when he had lost his Trine bonds so much as he couldn't now care about Thundercracker disappearing as well. Skywarp's death he could shrug away easily, because he long ago lost any sympathy for the idiot prankster, but TC was… well, closer still. At least until he started to sink into depression after his mate's disappearance. But by now he too moved away from his Trine-leader, his commander until no bond remained between them, only duty. And that is not a way a Trine could work. Starscream remembered well when they were all young and read each others' minds, loved each other and worked together like a miracle; they were the best, because they were each so attuned to the other two and complemented them that nothing and nobody could stand up to them.

But these were all the thoughts he spared on the past, as he needed to think of the present and the future, not reminisce like a romantic femme or get wasted away like Thundercracker did – he was either dead or a prisoner of the Autobots and that he would remain if it was so; the Decepticon army have no need of depressed, soft-sparked fools like him and they would never waste effort on freeing him if he managed to get captured. The Seekers from Cybertron would be arriving as soon as they could catch the unstable wormhole and then he would have a new Trine. From their files Silverstorm and Whipping Star looked like young, but competent fliers, their only drawback was that they came from Neutral backgrounds and so their loyalties were and would always be suspected. Not that they ever gave reason for it – in that case they would already be offlined, not distrusted. Shockwave held his troops in strong servos, maybe in better ones than Megatron here; , much as he hated the mech, he would have to give him this much. So when the Seekers would arrive, he would have to try them out and integrate them in to the Trine and the army. But not trust them. Trusting was for fools and for Autobots.

Bumblebee

It was the first time in his career on Earth that the Decepticon alert rang across the Ark, and he was not among those who raced out with Prime to answer the threat. It felt… strange not knowing what they did, where they went, but of course he was still just on the light duty roster, and Bumblebee knew perfectly well that he was not yet fully trusted either. He used to be a spy, trained to observe those around him, and he didn't miss none of the watchful optics that followed him for clues, and quite probably tried to find any Decepticon and in particular any Skywarp-tendencies in his behaviour. He didn't even blame them, as he was doing the very same thing from the inside; equally afraid of finding some but so far he experienced nothing suspicious. The closest thing was, he supposed during the flights, but those too were impersonal knowledge and expertise; it wasn't like Skywarp was there, only his muscles, so to speak.

But still, even if he couldn't help his comrades in the battle, he could find something to do from the background, and so he made his way into the Command Center to ask Red Alert for something to do. At least sitting in front of the monitors and hearing the comm channels he could follow the battle which proved to be a less than dangerous affair; with the Command Trine mostly out of the action, the Coneheads tangled up by the twins and Thundercracker shot down early, the Cons were at definite disadvantage and retreated even sooner than usual. But they didn't take the seriously damaged Seeker with them, Jazz clearly overheard Starscream's order to the troops to abandon his own Trinemate and Megatron didn't countermand it either; and so it fell to his comrades to decide the blue Seeker's fate. Bumblebee felt Red Alert's gaze on him quite a few times after that, but he voiced no opinion whatsoever – it was not his place, he felt to say anything either for saving TC or offlining him. Inside, it didn't escape his own notice that he automatically thought of the Seeker by that intimate nickname…

But the Prime's decision he could have foretold even without a single mech influencing it; the mech wouldn't leave anyone dying on the battlefield or anywhere else. It was simply not in his programming and Bumblebee was surprised that people still, after seeing it so many times with their own optics, still argued with him against it. Not that Ratchet would ever give a frag of whomsoever would want to talk him out of saving a life either, be it a Con or anyone else, unless he had a more seriously injured mech on their side. Which was not the case there, and so Ratchet quietly stabilized the blue Seeker's condition and patched up the worst injuries while the rest of them argued futilely with Prime, then told Skyfire to take him to the Ark med-bay. Under guard of course; Ratchet was no fool for all his compassion and determination, and wouldn't let an enemy Seeker loose in his place upon awakening. When they got back, Bumblebee knew better than go even near the place without being told; he spent most of the time while Thundercracker was repaired in his quarters or in the rec-room together with friends. Only when they transferred the Seeker into the brig, did he resume his usual activities and he was satisfied that nobody seemed to become suspicious of him so far over it. Openly nobody questioned him how he felt about the issue, but he felt the curious glances on him from many mechs; but not until a few orns later in his quarters was he asked about it openly by Prowl. The three of them was just after a very satisfying interface-session and lay on his berth lazily, each of them languidly petting a plating of someone nearby, content to the nth degree.

"Bee, how do you feel about Thundercracker being in the brig?"

"Almost the same how I felt with him being on the Nemesis. Okay, seeing him on the monitors sometimes is a bit strange."

"Strange, how? Can you qualify it?"

"He is familiar." – it wasn't easy to admit and he shrugged helplessly – "both as a Seeker and as a person. I am drawn to him a bit because he is a Seeker and although I am not one, something in my programming do insist on having wingmates nearby when I fly. Fliers in general are social creatures in the air, it seems to me."

"You should know that Prime talked to him and he is not totally averse of defecting. He blames Starscream for leaving Skywarp behind and now he was left behind too to die – he says that there is not a whole lot that would keep his loyalty there. But he sounds like a broken mech all the same… "

"If he defects, he will eventually find out what happened to Skywarp…"

"He doesn't have to; Prime told it to him openly. He has a right to know before making a decision to stay or go."

"I see…" – Bumblebee fell silent for a few kliks, thinking about it and coming up with a resigned feeling - "Well, in that case, I'd like to visit him, to… I don't know why, it just feels the right thing to do. If I can."

"It can be arranged… it is a complex issue and both of you should face it, whether he stays or not. Prime'd hoped that you'd be willing to do it."

"Hehh… there isn't much that he misses, is there?"

"He IS the Prime." Prowl smiled slightly at Bumblebee who was obviously tired and close to falling into recharge, never mind the topic. He served closely with Optimus Prime for a really long time but the mech never ceased to amaze him. Even when he acted illogically, it always turned out that somehow he was right. Well, after all as he told to Bumblebee – he was the Prime. And with that Prowl joined his berthmates in recharge, leaving the problems of the two Seekers and a Prime for the next cycle.

Thundercracker

Ohh, so the soft-sparked Autobots saved him, fixed him, and so now he could sit in their brig until he rusted, because there was no way Megatron or Starscream would want him back enough for a rescue. Great… just great. Why can't Primus or whatever fragging deity they possessed let him go after Skywarp? Thundercracker sat on the Ark brig's narrow berth that could never support his bulk with the wings, scowled at the red warrior guarding him over the energized bars and sulked. He didn't want this, not any single part of it. He didn't want the compassion, the enmity, the attention at all. He didn't want life itself, period. Most of all he didn't want the Prime coming in the doorway and in a breem probably giving him a long-winded speech about how he should appreciate them for being so nice to him as to repairing and bla-bla. But he couldn't work up enough anger at all these to voice it aloud. It was all just… pointless.

So he answered his questions, and told the mech openly that he shouldn't expect any exchange offer for him, as he was totally written down by Megatron. He told the mech that they already had two new Seekers filling in his and Skywarp's position in the Command Trine. He told him that it was his own Trine leader ordering him to be abandoned in the battlefield, almost like as it happened to Skywarp. But the Prime didn't launch into a speech as he expected, the big mech just looked at him with those fragging honest, sympathetic open blue optics that felt like seeing inside him, and asked quietly:

"If we let you go free, would you go back to Nemesis?"

"I have no reason to go back there. My loyalty to the Decepticon cause and its leaders sort of… expired lately." – he grimaced at the understatement; at the moment he was quite ready to throw himself onto Starscream or Megatron, preferably both and let them finish him off.

"Anywhere else?"

"Yeah, the Well sounds like a place to consider. But then, we Cons probably go to the Pit, right…"

" Seriously, please…"

"I have nowhere to go Prime. Absolutely nowhere. And face it; I cannot stay here either, even if I choose defecting, as none of your mechs would trust a former Con. So believe me, I am fairly serious about permanently offlining to be my best option."

"You might be surprised about my mechs not accepting former Cons. I know, it doesn't happen overnight and not everyone would take it the same stead, but we, the soft-sparked Autobots are often willing to forgive and forget past actions."

"You can't be serious…"

"I am not talking about turning you into an Autobot, welcomed with open arms and entrusting you with every code that Red Alert guards at once. No. I offer you a chance to change. A sort of… cautious neutrality until you can decide what you want from your life – if you still want something from it. There might be more to it than you'd think… and there is no hurry to answer either. Like there are still things that you should know before making a decision."

"Like…?"

"Like the fate of your former mate, Skywarp."

"I guess you, I mean Autobots offlined him. I never imagined it otherwise."

"It is true, but there is a difference between guessing it and knowing it for sure."

"You are right… it is different hearing it from you…" – Thundercracker knew that he should be feeling rage at the Prime for Skywarp's death, but he could only feel the pain again. Was it really necessary to open that wound again? Did it really have an influence on how he could presently act? It wasn't like the Prime to just bring up something like that to cause pain.

"The fact is, it is not the whole story, and you should know it; I wouldn't have brought it up without a direct consequence to the present, should you decide to stay with us."

"I think we agreed that there is no other place where I could go. So I must stay with you, either in the brig until I go mad, or accepting your offer for a guarded not-quite-prisoner that you chose to label as Neutral. Being quite fatalist at the moment, let's say I accept it. So what else is there in the story?"

"You might remember that around the same time one of my mechs, Bumblebee was captured by Decepticons, and tortured within an inch of his life."

"Yeah, I… sort of remember it. Hope you don't want to blame it on me, because my servos are clean of that sort of thing at least – I never did torture."

"No, we are not blaming you… we got back Bumblebee alive, but our medic couldn't repair him because of deep protoform damage and lacking the necessary materials. But he could transplant his meta and his spark into another frame, into an available, undamaged body – the dead, empty frame of Skywarp."

"WHAT?" – Thundercracker all but exploded off the berth in a rage, but fell on his knees at the sudden, blinding pain at his spark… they did what? – "How can I believe you that he was dead? That you didn't kill him just to… to make place for your mech?"

"Thundercracker… he was shot cleanly in the spark before we got Bumblebee back. We wouldn't do such thing, and you know that. You are the proof for it yourself."

"And you expect me to believe that Skywarp just simply bared his spark so that your mech could kill him?"

"No. I am telling that he was trying to spark-rape one of my Autobots in that forest you kept flying over and his scouting partner shot him in the exposed spark while at it. None of us intended any of what happened. We were forced into decisions ourselves by Decepticon actions – and we tried to make the best of it, whatever we could salvage."

He couldn't answer anything to that. It wasn't a lie, he knew the Prime this much that the mech would never say an outright lie; even bending the truth seemed acutely distasteful for him. And as much as he loathed admitting it to himself, Skywarp was far more vicious and cruel towards Autobots than he, far more enthusiastic of interfacing and in prisoners' cases even for rape, so the Seeker could imagine the scene as real. It wasn't easy to accept that his mate, whom he loved was such a cruel mech sometimes. Still to hear that they used his body in such way… it went too far.

"I will leave you now to your thoughts. If you make a decision in any way, the guard on duty will notify me."

Thundercracker didn't feel the strength in him to even answer the Prime. He was shocked to his very core, to be forced to see his lover, his Trinemate, his friend in this light, to contemplate his actions in retrospect and shake his love towards him… and on top of it to see in his mind's eye his dead body reanimated, occupied by a different person… it was too much. He had nightmares during recharge, seeing Skywarp like as humans imagined a zombie, all grey and dark optics and moving towards him with his spark hanging out while he couldn't move… he onlined shaking and moaning and didn't dare to go back to recharge any time soon.

Silverstorm

They were on Earth only for a joor but Silverstorm already hated the place. A sunken ship in the bottom of the ocean is no place for a Seeker to live and if he heard Starscream's screech one more time this cycle he might just turn off his audios and let him rant unheard. The place basically stank with disuse and organic contamination from the ocean getting in everywhere – the silver-white Seeker was no cleanliness-fanatic but when he saw the wash-racks he almost decided to take a dive in the saltwater around them instead. He had seen half ruined barracks more clean on Cybertron for frag's sake; it far easier to make cleaning drones that rebuild something and they didn't have to go through that part here like back at home where the whole planet was basically in ruins. He supposed he should make his own drones, after all he always liked to tinker with them, and learned quite a lot from Shockwave with whom he shared a fascination for the little critters. Anything to make this place better really, now that they had to live here.

But they will have practice flights aplenty in the next few orns; sensibly the Air Commander seemed to care at least a bit about his future Trine. Not that he seemed to be willing to make Trine bonds or just even get to know them closely; in fact he looked downright paranoid, just like Megatron and most of the mechs they saw so far. Silverstorm could understand that he Seeker has lost two Trine members, both with whom he'd been flying together since their youth and that it made hard to trust some outsiders at once. But then he heard the most disturbing rumor that it was Starscream who ordered the army to leave behind his injured Trine-mate, Thundercracker for the Autobots. He found that hard to believe. He didn't particularly want to believe it. It went against everything that he was raised by as Seeker law.

The next cycles brought about more pleasant activities; the planet was, he had to admit even better for flying than Cybertron, and Starscream, when he wasn't screeching orders was really an exceptionally good flyer and a more than competent Trine leader. Perhaps they could make the best of this situation and learn as much as they could from him. He already saw that the tricolored Seeker was thriving on admiration, so he gave it to him in copious amounts and some of them he even meant too. He compensated for his brother's silence as well, who as usual played his silent-and-serious role that he always started out with in a new place. The praise seemed to be working and by the end of the third orn, after many exercises of flying in and out of formation Starscream was much more positive towards them and even started talking in a more normal voice-register. It would take a while to gain his trust too, not to mention Trine bonding, but a cautious working relationship was by this time not out of question.

No such luck with Megatron who looked and felt downright unmanageable with seemingly totally erratic reactions given at the wild variety of cautious words and probing actions that he tried. Silverstorm was starting to see that the rumours that they heard were actually not even just true but downplaying the state of matters about the Decepticon leader. The blue telepath, the TIC was always hanging in the background, listening in, his own visor and mask hiding his face completely, acting seemingly on logical lines but keeping his own goals in sight too. These two were really the totally opposites to each other; probably that's why it was Soundwave the only one on the base that Megatron seemed not suspicious of. The rest of the army seemed to carry no weight at all in the power-play, only Hook enjoying a bit of respect because of his specialty – but his cold irreverence for anything but his gestalt and the backstabbing attitude he displayed made him an unlikely ally. All in all a desperately unhealthy environment personalities-wise; Silverstorm has seen wards of mental hospitals with better cooperation than the supposed High Command of the Decepticon army, even throwing in Shockwave for good measure. After making his observations, he knew that the telepath would approach him in his own time and he was not mistaken; a few orns into his careful probing and poking around, Soundwave sought him out in his quarters that he shared with his brother and didn't waste any time on pleasantries.

"Query: previous experience with psychology?"

"Yes, my creator was a medic with that specialization. He taught me a lot about understanding mechs' behaviour."

"Query: reason of applying knowledge?"

"You gotta be kidding to ask that. It is survival, pure and simple. If I know what makes mechs around me work, I can avoid confrontations and still achieve my goals."

"Reason: acceptable."

Before he left the Seekers' quarters the telepath turned back to him once more with his hidden, unreadable face.

"Assessment of Command staff: correct."

He left after that and Silverstorm, lifting his optic ridges at that last remark, was glad that he got away that easily with him – in fact, he mused silently, if he got to know him better, he might be able to even… like the mech. He really didn't have any further goals than surviving, as neither of them was particularly ambitious, and it must have helped to convince Soundwave that they were no threat to him or to Megatron. Now, if only he could convince Starscream about the same, they would have a much better position; but he was afraid that being on good terms with one quite precluded the same with the others…

Bumblebee

It took Bumblebee another orn of steeling his nerve to visit Thundercracker. When he arrived to the brig, it was Bluestreak on duty and he could convince the chattering mech easily to let him speak with the Seeker alone – or as alone as the security cameras allowed it anyway. The blue mech staring at him with those sinister red optics from behind the bars was eerily familiar and it scared him quite a bit – but when his optics fell onto the Decepticon signs on the wings it was an entirely different feeling gripping him suddenly. He hasn't seen a Con up close since his captivity and it brought forth memories like a rolling wave of nausea, deleting immediately of whatever familiarity he felt at first… he was fighting a bitter inner battle with his reaction to it, trying to neither purge his tanks nor attack in a blind rage. When the flying dreams all but made him forget the nightmares, he thought that he was over his ordeal, but apparently it was not the case. But slowly he regained his composure, relaxed his frame and the fists again, stepping closer to the bars, suppressing all the way the urge to fight or flight in favor of remaining calm.

"Thundercracker…"

Bumblebee didn't really know what to say to him. The strong, mixed reaction overwrote all familiarity that he felt at first, and he was staring at basically a stranger. All he knew was that the Seeker wanted to defect the Cons and stay on the Ark; for that he had to be confronted with what was for him probably a painful sight and see if he was able to cope with it. Best to let him say whatever he needed… But he wasn't ready for the sudden lurch that the so-far unmoving Seeker reacted with when he called his designation.

**Thundercracker**

Thundercracker was staring at the bright yellow body, knowing without any introductions who it was and why he came. Once he overcome the color he started noticing the differences that they made on the body he used to know so intimately… the optics, the faceplates were all different, wrong, softer than they used to be. Obviously they wanted them to be such. Interestingly he was missing all his weapons too – didn't they trust him still? All in all, he was glad that the other looked like superficially a stranger, and it was mainly because of the impossibly bright yellow of his frame coupled with the blue optics. Suddenly the other's body stiffened, the clawed fingers clenched into fists and the calm, blue glance became smoldering as it latched on his wings, the body and the wings shaking in constrained emotion… was it fear, he wondered? But no, it was different… it was rage… caused by the Decepticon signs still displayed on his wings. For Bumblebee, the Autobot spy, after what happened to him they were probably oil on fire and it took him a breem to collect himself. It helped to Thundercracker too; the anger and the sight together dampened the sharp pain that was Skywarp in his spark… at least until he stepped closer, calmer again and called his name…

Then it was pure agony again. The face, the body, the behaviour was all soothingly different – but the voice didn't change any and suddenly it was Skywarp standing there again, looking at him, calling him... the blue Seeker lurched to his pedes and a ragged moan broke free of his lip-plates. He too fought for control like the other did a breem ago, trying to get hold of his whirlwind emotions, to see the other again and not hear him, to tell himself that Skywarp WAS dead, that it was NOT him… Thundercracker forced himself to say the mech's designation, to recognize him and show that he understood. He could do it. He was strong enough. He must be.

"Bumblebee." – and not Skywarp, never again. He might get to know this mech better, he hoped that he would, but not as Skywarp. That must become and remain a name to remember not to say.

It was easier after that for both of them. They had their demons, their inner battles, but facing them by facing each other was the first step to heal the festering wounds. Neither of them knew where they would end up in relation with the other, but talking helped on many levels; Thundercracker couldn't really say what gave him back the will to live and to feel - even if it was a bittersweet emotion, but he found that he didn't mind.


	5. Learning

**Learning**

Silverstorm

Flying would keep them sane, he decided and so he grabbed every opportunity to get them both off that Pit-accursed ship and into the sky. He went as far as begging Megatron to let them out more, citing that they've just arrived from Cybertron and as such they never had to live in enclosed places; the Seekers he had here for long might have got used to it, but they started to feel claustrophobic after a single cycle. He was glad to have gotten off a good start with Soundwave, because the telepath backed him up with the warlord, affirming that they had no other, ulterior motive and so they got special permission to go up and fly to their sparks' content. Most often than not Starscream wouldn't go with them, as he was far too engrossed in his power-play, his research and besides he was simply not trusted by Megatron to not to backstab him, given the opportunity. The silver-white Seeker pondered sometimes if the Air Commander was even enjoying flying any more or just considering it as his duty; the mech was a perfectionist that's for sure, but far too uptight and distant in the air too and even when they coaxed him out for some formation exercises he headed back to Nemesis as soon as he could. So the two of them amused themselves with discovering the planet, and there was a lot to see on it in fact; it was far more diverse than Cybertron, albeit infested with ever so much organic life. Not to mention the abysmal amount of water; Silverstorm was rarely so much pissed off when they first got caught in a rainstorm and nearly panicked, just to have Starscream laugh at him for thinking it an acid rain. Well, he must have missed that memo; on Cybertron rains were acidic and therefore dangerous even if it was not the Rainmakers causing them.

Flying around they never missed the fact that they were technically at war, even though it was also quite different from the situation on Cybertron; in fact it was almost peaceful compared to the guerilla-type warfare that continuously went on among the ruined cities of their erstwhile home. The indigenous species, called humans hardly ever spared them a glance which surprised them greatly, as they thought them to be allies of the Autobots. Maybe they mistook them for their own aircrafts. As for the Autobots themselves, well, Silverstorm has yet to see any of them either. The first sight of them came quite a few orns after they arrived, and flew over the mainland nearby; a bright yellow jet dipping in and out of sensor-range, moving away immediately so they couldn't follow it. But according to their briefs that Starscream gave them there was no yellow Autobot flier listed, and humans didn't paint their jets to such colors either, so its identity remained a mystery. Unless of course it was Sunstorm… that utterly insane Seeker cared for no orders and was notoriously hard to keep at one place. But then, if he was here, the officers should at least know about him.

Bumblebee

He felt ready to be reintegrated into the duty roster and talking the possible arrangements over privately with Prowl and Silverbolt, they went to the Prime to discuss it with him too so he could make a decision about it. No longer had he felt awkward in the new body and sometimes he even forgot to label it as the 'new one' and just behaved with a natural mixture of how he used to act and what he could do now. He flew sometimes with the Aerialbots, taking part in their exercises and they accepted him with minimal fuss, but most often alone; the urge to have wingmates was always there in the background, but as he was not by nature a group fighter, the two often clashed in his meta. During one of those flights he noticed the two Decepticon Seekers, flying in formation but he got out of their range fast; without weapons he would have had no chance against them. That was one of the reasons he wanted to talk to Prime; if he kept flying, he'd eventually meet with the Con jets and he would have rather have it in a way he stood a chance against them. Thundercracker was let out of the brig in the meanwhile as he accepted the offered Neutral status and that made for interesting scenes; most of the Autobots didn't take well the increasing number of ex-Con Seekers among them. Red Alert was especially loud sometimes, accusing them with infiltrating the Ark one by one and predicting that if next Starscream was to be defecting then he would take it as proof for his theory and shoot them all to the Pit. Bumblebee was fairly sure that Ironhide would be backing him up in such situation with all his cannons and he wouldn't even be the only one.

But Prime was fortunately not so paranoid as to mistrust Bumblebee, and he got back the quite impressive weaponry that Skywarp used to wield, and assigned him to Silverbolt, who was the Autobot's Air Commander, even though neither he nor anyone else ever used the title. The Aerialbots and many of the other mech expected him to fight with the Concorde for dominancy, but he explained them that although he looked like a Seeker, but inside he wasn't really feeling like one, and besides he knew next to nothing about aerial warfare in general – Skywarp was a good flier but most definitely not a strategist. In consequence, Bumblebee was perfectly content to follow the gestalt-leader's orders. They often practiced in threes and although these were technically not Trines, they worked similarly; Silverbolt with Skydive and Slingshot, and Bee with Air Raid and Fireflight. Unless the gestalt had to form Superion, it was the best arrangement; this way, both wingleaders had only two airheaded, argumentative, silly and stubborn jets to keep in line instead of four. It also gave them more variations in tactics and soon they all vowed to give the aft-whooping of the vorn to the Cons the next time they meet.

Starscream

Starscream was unusually satisfied with his new Trinemates; the silver-white and the coppery Seekers were not only competent fliers but properly obedient and respectful as well; a welcome change from the insufferable late Skywarp, even though he missed the teleporting ability of his. He almost liked them, especially Silverstorm, who seemed to be the spokesmech of the two and his second in the trine and who always seemed to know what he needed or wanted and supplied it without being too fawning. Whipping Star, the silent one was following his brother's lead in everything and although neither had any listed special abilities, Starscream could almost swear that he disappeared completely sometimes. But he would have their secrets out as soon as they formed the Trine bond. But first of all they had to have another raid to plan and execute, to try out Megatron's newest superweapon. But before that happened though, when the Seekers came back from their last patrol Silverstorm had an interesting bit to report.

"Commander, we noticed a yellow Autobot flier on patrol, over the mainland, moving out of range fast. According to what I knew there weren't any such coloured fliers on Earth."

"Yellow? What kind of a flier?"

"I couldn't be sure, but he looked an F-22. The Aerialbots doesn't have that kind of the alt-mode."

"Why didn't you pursue it?"

"Because it left our range as soon as it appeared and we lost it."

"So, because you are incompetent fools." – Starscream was scowling at the calm silver and white Seeker, standing there in a relaxed pose, wings calmly shushing back and forth, not at all intimidated by his ire. They should have found out more about it, there was no way he could report that little to Megatron and get away with it.

"We would usually be better with a full Trine, that is true, Commander. But we understand that you have… other duties."

"How dare you insinuate…!" – and he was so infuriatingly calm it gnawed on Starscream's nerves… - "I don't care about your excuses and insubordination, next time you see that Seeker pursue him and find out who he is!"

"As you wish Commander."

Thundercracker

Being Neutral on the Ark sure beat being unwanted on the Nemesis, even though most of the Autobots honored him with all the mistrust that they probably spared to Bumblebee. He was given his own quarters, and a free rein inside the Ark; weapons deactivated of course and not yet allowed to fly. In exchange, he removed the Decepticon insignia from his wings and tried to give them no reason to distrust him; but as his mood hardly got any better he was not really able or willing to socialize with the Autobots. He would have loved to do that with one of them of course, but Bumblebee seemed to avoid him and nowhere to be found, or had the Aerialbrats around him, as though a noisy and annoying defense against him. They only talked twice so far and neither was a comfortable affair; the last time in the rec-room was downright disastrous…

When he walked in there, he noticed the yellow expanse of the wings at the nearest table the first thing. He might have stopped there staring, because the next thing he felt was being 'accidentally' knocked over by another yellow chassis; one of the Jet Judo twins wearing a serious scowl on his faceplates. But he wasn't intimidated by a mere expression, giving just as good in the scowling department as he got, before picking himself and his determination up from the floor and going over to where Bee was sitting with the other twin and Jazz.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Yes, we do." – came the prompt answer from Sideswipe, not even trying to be civil and entering into the scowling contest with probably the winning one.

"No, Thundercracker, please sit…" – Bumblebee was far more polite, even when flustered and Jazz too made place for him to be able to join them at the table. The chairs weren't really designed with wings in mind, but he wasn't going to complain; if he couldn't find Bee alone for a talk, he'd have to be satisfied with him in company. He decided that flying as a topic would be neutral enough to breach the ice and center the conversation on them, excluding the grounders as much as he could.

"So, how do you like flying? You have a unique position now to tell if it is as special as we, who were created fliers make it out. Grounders always say that we mystify it too much. "

"Actually, I've been thinking about it. I must admit, flying gives a marvelous freedom that I rarely felt on the ground; but it exists there too. I mean… mechs sometimes go to the Salt Flats or the Black Rock Desert, where there are no roads or restrictions and there one can feel a very similar freedom as flying gives to one."

"Yeah, Black Rock is the greatest place on Earth!" – Sideswipe grinned, as he couldn't help but agree; he was one of the frequent visitors of the place.

So much for excluding the grounders… but at least they were talking.

"Okay, I never tried to see it that way… it seems to me that driving basically lacks the third dimension and that's why I could never associate it with freedom."

"Flying and being on the ground have fundamental philosophical consequences" - the new voice, intruding on them belonged to of all mechs Prowl, smoothly exchanging places with the leaving Jazz – "While the three dimensions give the feeling of more freedom, fliers usually pay for it with being less secure, less stable."

"Huhh… interesting idea." – the blue Seeker was actually almost loosing sight of his previous objective and thinking over what Prowl said. – "You mean we are more volatile and emotional because of not standing on the ground – so to speak?"

"Yes, that is exactly what I mean. Freedom usually comes both with limits and a price. The limits you mostly know and resent; the price you either pay willingly or ignore."

"Aren't the two the same? I mean the limit and the price? It seems to me."

It was Bee who answered that tentatively, wings fluttering ever-so-slightly, scrolling through his experiences of flying and trying to tag them as Prowl presented the idea:

"Limits I think are more around flying, while price is underlying the whole concept, isn't it Prowl?"

Thundercracker was still confused though. He didn't really see the two as worth separating, but then he was rather fascinated by the wings twitching as they accentuated the words. His own too and he fervently hoped that the doorwinger wasn't actually understanding Seeker-cant.

"You mean limits like fuel, gravity and such things? Including rules like 'you can't fly until we trust you'?"

"Partly… but also that not even flying is completely free. Not ever. You have your body's limits for example. But gravity is a good example too. Is it so much different when gravity keeps you on the ground or keeps you around a planet? Both can be freedom, while both is limited, they only differ in a degree."

Prowl knew that Thundercracker mainly wanted to talk to Bumblebee but he also found the subject too quite fascinating – the warring desires were almost written on his face and wings. In any case he was quite distracted and drawn out from his depressive mood. He also nonchalantly made sure that the blue Seeker saw his position beside Bee and the way they instinctly leaned together; he was not jealous, but it didn't hurt to express clearly the way things were. Sideswipe, not really interested in the topic and seeing that Prowl sort of 'chaperoned' Bee left the three of them alone and went after his brother. Thundercracker gave the subject matter some thought while they shuffled around the table, but then he couldn't help but notice the way the other two reacted to each other; he almost forgot what he was starting to say and stared at the Autobot SIC and the yellow Seeker with a hurt that he knew he had no right to feel… not to mention that although he had had absolutely no idea about the relationships between Autobots, the last mech he would have picked for a romantic type was the tactician. And with Bumblebee…?

"I… uhh… you mean… then freedom and stability – the effect of flying and grounded - are affecting each other in a way… umm… you gain in one and lose from the other…" – he was flustered and moreover showing it. Even more the other two was clearly noticing it. Thundercracker considered a strategic retreat… he so didn't need the Autobot SIC becoming angry at him for trying to make a move on his lover if he was to stay on the Ark. But could he actually refrain from that…?

"… and vice versa. That is exactly what I meant. And something that I think Bumblebee is experiencing firsthand these days. And maybe you in the other way." – Prowl indeed saw the blue jet's predicament, while Bumblebee actually offered Prowl a warm smile and a playful wing-jab at his words; which made something in the blue Seeker twist painfully. He completely lost the discussion at that point and mumbling a rather lame excuse left the rec-room with not even bothering to hitch up his wings, well past caring about who read them or not. It was bad enough to lose Skywarp once – he shouldn't try to see him in Bumblebee because that would mean losing him again, as the mech was clearly in a serious relationship. For better or worse he had to accept that his lover was dead. He had to do it again and again until he could look at the yellow Seeker and not see the ghost of the black-and-purple one…

Silverstorm

So, they had a definite mission now, to find out who the Autobot Seeker was. With that in mind he worked out an exercise pattern that would take them close to where the Autobot fliers usually practiced and hoped to find the one again. It didn't take long to see him again and this time they were ready for it; approaching him from two directions, they discreetly herded the yellow Seeker further from the Ark, where they could get closer to him without being in danger. He was good in the air but they had experience on him and numbers; in a little while the nervousness and insecurity was perceivable in his flight pattern. In closer inspection they could find no personal identification marks, only the clear and obvious Autobot insignias, so Silverstorm, after half a joor's pleasant, although low-level chase around the place decided to up the ante and narrowed their circles around him. He continued to try to evade them and break out of their confinement but they had him now and Silverstorm felt the time ready for some talking and bobbed his wings to show respect – nothing binding just as much as it was appropriate between strangers.

"Autobot Seeker, what is your designation?"

There was no answer either in the comm or with wings – and that level of ignorance was quite rude among Seekers, where one'd have to at least acknowledge even the worst enemies. No reaction was the rudest possible behaviour, actually worse than an insult. He signaled it so to the yellow flier but he didn't seem to get that message either – or ignored it too.

"Autobot Seeker, I don't like your rudeness at all. We showed proper respect but your attitude is abysmal. Who taught you thus?"

The other flier wobbled a bit in the air, like a mech stumbling when confronted with something surprising that he didn't quite understand; but he only answered in an open comm frequency.

"I didn't mean to be rude." – still no reaction with the wings, still trying to escape the boxed-in position even in the absence of the slightest visible threatening move. – "My designation is Bumblebee. Who are you?"

"We are Silverstorm and Whipping Star. We have no orders to fight with you now, so you don't have to be so defensive."

"You are Decepticons." – came the wary answer – "You are supposed to be deceiving."

"Point taken." – Silverstorm thought he would never live down that particular name. – "But we don't mean to attack you now anyway. Just getting to know you."

"You have accomplished that. Or is there anything else?"

"Yes, actually… our files list your designation as a small grounder, which you are patently not. Care to elaborate?" – Starscream'd probably want to know how the Autobots managed to make a Seeker out of a minibot. Come to think of it, he'd want to know it too.

"I was… changed."

"A reformat?"

"Something like that. What is that to you?"

A screaming lie if the tone of voice and the stiffly held wings are any indication; not that he moved his wings much so far... The yellow flier upped his attempts to escape too, and Silverstorm signaled to his brother to let him go freely but not too obviously. He would tell no more now and there was no reason to push him; but what he didn't say was quite… educating.

"Just interested… Bumblebee. Till next time…" – just a final, parting waggle of the wings, curious of how he'd react now; he thought that he saw the tiniest answer from him, but couldn't be sure, as he banked sharply to move away from them and rapidly accelerated towards the Autobot base. He was either very young, untaught or an incredible actor to get through a conversation without the slightest twitch of the wings. Of course Autobots had very little knowledge of Seekers and their culture, so it was possible that they simply didn't teach him anything necessary… Silverstorm would have shaken his helm, had he been in root form; as it was he signaled to his copper-black Trine-mate to return to Nemesis and report what they found.

Bumblebee

This time he sought out Thundercracker to talk to, not trusting in any of the Autobot fliers in this matter; if they knew about it then they'd've told him about this strange wing-language before. Or so he hoped. Why would they keep it a secret from him? But the blue Seeker had no reason not to tell it, so Bumblebee went to the rec-room straight to find him after coming back from the flight. He was alone, and the yellow jet suddenly saw him neither as an ex-Decepticon, nor as a possible source of information, but just a brooding, probably mourning mech, all alone… and there he was, wanting only information from him. Bumblebee was a kind and compassionate mech and although not a 'morale officer' like Jazz, but still caring about others and trying to help them out of their holes if he could. So, when he joined the Seeker in the back part of the room he decided to overcome his own misgivings and this time really talk to the mech if he wanted it too. The room was supplied with the special, tall stools that fliers always preferred over chairs, as it left their wings move freely and gave them the feeling of air around; and he was perched on one of these. Bumblebee joined him across the tall table on another of the stools and watched his surprise at joining him. Instead of beating around the bush, as the human saying went, he decided to ask straight into his problem, to see if he wanted to talk about it.

"You seem… brooding. Are you all right?"

"Not really… I seem to have bad luck following me like a stormcloud. You should avoid me… or should I say continue to avoid…? "

"I'm sorry… I wasn't really considerate, was I?"

"You had no reason to be. You are not responsible for my fate after all… much as I try to blame Autobots, it wasn't something they – you did."

"Still, I think you could cope better if you had someone at least to talk to – you seem to be all alone."

"Yeah, alone is something I often do these days… I will be honest with you. I've been going downhill ever since Skywarp died and I can't seem to find any way out of it… it is not your fault, it is not anyone's fault that I can point to – but still it is true and nothing can change it."

"Have you considered that giving up is the very thing that makes you unable to move on?"

"I didn't give up. I just see no options for me…"

"Options won't present themselves to you while sitting alone and brooding like you want to live up to your designation."

"I know one path I'd take… but I don't know whether it is a dead end or a new beginning, or that you'd want to take it with me at all. And this path has vehement guardians anyhow. In my position I cannot, would not make enemies out of most Autobots who consider me a bad influence for you, if not worse."

Thundercracker

Bumblebee couldn't answer that…. There was no answer to a question not even asked. But he didn't leave either, continued to sit perched on the seat with wings so very still that no Seeker held them thus, helm tilted to the side just a bit, the blue optics flickering from sympathetic to understanding. His own wings were drooping and he didn't look at Bumblebee, letting the other act or say however he would want to. He told what he dared to say so far and pushing it would not make anything easier. They sat in silence for almost a breem before the yellow Seeker moved again and sliding off the stool, grabbed Thundercracker's servo to pull after him out of the rec-room.

"Come on. A Seeker cannot be sad in the air, or so I was told."

Thundercracker thought that he might be joking. He was not cleared to leave the Ark, and he didn't want to get in trouble… not only for flying but with whom…

"I've cleared it, don't worry. They'll only shout at me, when we get back, not you."

They almost ran till the entrance of the ship, Bumblebee still holding the servo with one of his own, and it caused little twinges travelling upwards from the point of contact… but he let it go before the guards there could see them and they emerged separate to the outside. Apparently they've been notified because aside from the familiar scowls that seemed to be compulsory for Autobots in his presence, they made no move to stop him transforming and shooting up in the air after the yellow flier.

"Just stay nearby that was the suggestion." – he laughed in the comm, obviously enjoying flying as well – "I've met up with Con Seekers earlier further out."

"The Coneheads?"

"No, new ones. Silverstorm and Whipping Star. Interesting ones too – we talked a bit."

"What, they didn't attack you?" – it was surprising to say at least, although he didn't know these two personally. But most Decepticon Seekers would attack a lone Autobot flier, even if not for a serious battle, but just for having fun, so just talking was unusual behaviour.

They were flying in lazy, widening circles around the Ark area, the blue jet letting the yellow one lead, enjoying flight-freedom, following him curiously, watching, observing… yes, he recognized the style, the maneuvers, knew them well… familiar movements but far more cautiously done than Skywarp ever executed them. It was almost like a talented youngster stretching his wings the first time, finding his limits – but even so, something indefinable was off that he couldn't quite yet identify.

"They said they wanted to get to know me. Which reminds me… I wanted to ask something that they said."

A curious wiggle of the blue wings.

"They said that I was… rude. But I didn't say anything, so I don't really know what they meant."

There it was… that was exactly the thing he felt being off earlier. It shouldn't have surprised him; after all he had, despite of the Seeker body, a grounder mind. He wasn't talking with his wings. The blue Seeker thought back to the occasions when he saw Bumblebee and concluded that above the most basic flutters he didn't move the wings in any meaningful way. Which was all wrong of course, and apparently the Con jets noticed it as well as he said.

"Grounders and their narrow-minded approaches…" - he grumbled in the comm and continued to explain – "How much do you know about the wing-language, the Seeker-cant?"

"I… uhh… not much… Should I?"

"Yes, you should. I guess whoever did the programming for you, didn't feel necessary to include it. But with having wings you should know at least the basics, if not the whole language… that was why the Con Seekers called you rude; which by the way must have been a funny situation with that coming from them. They probably signaled a dozen things to you while talking and you didn't react. Since you fly well, they probably considered that you understood their signals and choose not to answer, which is quite rude among Seekers."

"But they were Cons! Why is it wrong even if I was rude – however inadvertently?"

"Well… to be a Seeker… is kinda stronger affiliation than factions. Or so most of us thought a while back... the longer the war goes on the less it is true I guess. Not that Autobots had Seekers – and no, the Aerialbots don't count on so many levels that I can't even start to list - so the issue was moot for the most part, until you came by."

They were flying in silence for a few breems, weaving in and out of the clouds, lost in their thoughts before Bumblebee spoke again, quietly, hesitantly.

"Thundercracker…"

"Yes…?"

"I am not really a Seeker either, am I?"

"I can't really answer definitely to that… in theory, you are a Seeker, because you have the body of one, and a lot of the necessary programming. But the more we talk, the more I see how much you are Bumblebee, the grounder minibot inside all that. And it is not just the lack of wing-language…"

"WATCH IT!" – the shout surprised them both as Air Raid swooped down between them, narrowly missing both the yellow and the blue wings, diving further towards the ground – "You might want to check your sensors too!"

Air Raid was chased by one of the Coneheads, Ramjet whose mates were so far staying out of the probably impromptu dogfight, but seeing the two jets appearing they too dived into the fray. They recognized Thundercracker at once and his comm erupted with surprised and not a little angry shouts which he ignored as he twisted outside Thrust's path, leaving Dirge to go after Bumblebee. He too reacted with admirable skill and managed to stay out of the Conehead's firing range without to much effort, although he seemed reluctant to shoot back at him, even when he had the opportunity. Thundercracker shook off Thrust easily as the Con jet wasn't even sure which side he was supposed to be and instead went after the clearly Autobot-marked yellow Seeker. Air Raid in the meanwhile dived close to the Ark, where Ramjet didn't dare to follow, as more and more Bots came out to help the fliers if they needed it. It wasn't usual to see Con fighter so close to the Ark anyway, Air Raid must have mouthed off them pretty heavily so they followed him this far inland.

Unfortunately his escape to the Ark meant that all three Coneheads chose Bumblebee as the easiest target and went after him with a vengeance to take out on him Air Raid's choice words taunting them a bit earlier. The young flier recognized his mistake in leaving the yellow Seeker out alone and turned back at once when Thundercracker started shouting at him in his comm; but the time was enough for the more experienced trio to close in on Bumblebee and start to strafe his wings with lasers. The blue jet also dived towards them with full speed, no matter that he had no weapons to help with, but he wasn't going to let them have their way with him. But neither of them expected that the yellow Seeker would, at the first laser touching his wings, teleport suddenly. Even Thundercracker didn't think of this solution, who by this time told himself the 'he-is-not-Skywarp' mantra enough times to forget about this ability, as Bee, unlike the late Skywarp never used teleporting within the Ark. The Cons suddenly found themselves at the other end of some lasers as Air Raid caught up with them from behind and the reappearing Bumblebee let loose too this time. Together they chased the Coneheads far before returning to the Ark; TC shadowing them for moral support, unable to contribute much without weaponry, but helping them maneuver.

Returning to the Ark he expected to be told off for overstepping the set boundaries, but apparently the Bots in general were much more thankful for the safe return of their friends than angry at him, and so they all returned to the Ark in higher spirits than he left it. He chose to ignore the one unamused pair of optics; Prowl apparently wasn't as happy about the positive outcome of the situation as everyone else. But still, flying did help his mood, Bumblebee was right about that; the rest between them would remain unsaid for now. Later Thundercracker visited him again with the promised wing-language files, and they sought out Skyfire to help integrating them into his programming; the big shuttle profusely apologized for forgetting to include them in the first place. But their use didn't come automatically and the yellow wings continued to signal funny, unintelligible and sometimes embarrassing things for a while yet; as it gave him a lot of chance to stay with Bee to correct - and sometimes laugh at him, Thundercracker didn't complain. He just made sure that when Prowl was near too, he didn't do or say the slightest thing that he could take as exceptionable. He found that Optimus Prime was right about one thing – he really wanted something still from his life.


	6. Turning

**Warning**: sticky mech/mech action towards the end.

**Note**: I tried to write Jazz's accent but probably failed terribly. Sorry about that.

* * *

><p><strong>Turning<strong>

Jazz

"Jazz… don't you think that Bee is spending … a lot of time with Thundercracker?"

"Well, he can't very well fly with us, ain't he?"

"But they are not just flying together. They are perching on those stools right now over there, instead of being with us."

"Ahhh, Prowlie… they talk about flying too. Thundercracker knows a lot that Bee doesn't, an' Bee is one of the few who talks to TC. An' you know how much fliers like ta sit on those things."

"I wish it was just that. I really do. But I can catch a little of what they say with those wings and… it isn't just about flying."

"It ain't like ya, Prowler to be… jealous…?"

"I just don't like it. He should be with us more."

"An' when you bury yourself inta your datapads an' I don't see you fer orns…? He'll come around if you give him time."

To be honest Jazz too was worried about Bumblebee and themselves more than he let it show. Their relationship was an unusual one for sure; everyone knew he and Prowl were bondmates, but it wasn't even suspected that they became lovers with the yellow minibot not that long time ago. It was just the kind of a relationship that teetered on the edge of being just lovers or becoming more serious and it had a kind of suspense when Bee was nearly killed then reformatted into a Seeker. When he was back and ready, they welcomed him into their berth too… but things that looked good for a while somehow went downhill and he wasn't sure what caused it. The last few times they met the yellow Seeker seemed only half in there with them; it wasn't that obvious as he was taking part in 'facing just as enthusiastically as ever, but there was some imperceptibly small difference when he sometimes looked at Prowl or himself. But it was just for nanokliks and he was back himself, and he might have just imagined it anyway, so Jazz didn't feel it necessary to bring up. He had asked Prowl through the bond back then but his mate apparently missed the instance and so couldn't say anything about it – instead he shot a feeling of pure love back that simply melted Jazz's spark and made him forgot everything right there. Prowl noticed other things though; the dutiful officer that he was always kept tabs on their guest, the supposedly Neutral Seeker, who spent more and more time with Bumblebee; and while he didn't actually mistrust either of them, their closeness still caused him being uncharacteristically edgy.

Bumblebee

Bumblebee sat in the rec-room, in the main area for once as there were no other fliers around and brooded. He came here after shift to find someone to talk to and have some energon with – but mainly hoping that he could catch Jazz coming off-shift. Prowl was a vain hope this time of the orn, he would be tied up with his work for joors still. As people started to appear in the room though he saw neither of them, so he resigned to sit by Bluestreak and let the young gunner babble away without being too aware of it. But for all his inattention he managed to catch when Blue said that he saw Jazz taking off for a concert and wouldn't be back for awhile; by the time he would be out practicing with the Aerialbots. There went another orn when he couldn't talk to them… or rather not just talk. He felt uneasy with them lately, uncomfortably like a third wheel, like he was somehow… intruding on their established relationship.

He mused about it, just as he pretended to still listen to Bluestreak, sipping the energon sometimes and discreetly looking towards the back part of the room which resolutely remained empty. It wasn't like they were any less enthusiastic with him in the berth, far from it, he thought; if anything their interfacing got even better since he became from the smallest to the biggest in the trio. But as he got to know them better and more intimately he couldn't help but notice how much they talked through their bond, from which he was obviously excluded. Not that he was suspicious of them or that they talked about secrets… but still it wasn't a very good feeling. He felt left out when one of them laughed suddenly and turned to the other, sharing something, a joke, a memory, a surprise sometimes… and as much as he loved interfacing with them, he would have liked it not to have to do secretly, hiding it from anyone, like it was somehow… wrong or something. He would never be as exhibitionist as Seekers usually were, but always having to refrain from a tender touch in public was a bit hard. All in all, he definitely wanted to talk about things with them… if only he could catch them once, which became rather hard lately.

Starscream

Starscream fumed silently after reading the Coneheads' report, adding their info to Silverstorm's. He still couldn't give this mess to Megatron, he would be shot on the spot; but he must tell him about the new Autobot fliers soon. Besides it was impossible. Totally impossible. Absolutely, fraggingly inconceivable. Bumblebee was a slagging minibot and the only teleport-capable Seeker was Skywarp, offlined long ago. Wait a klik, he was not offlined, just reported missing and never found, not even a single piece of him. But even if he was found by the Autobots and – impossible again his processor whispered – defected, he would never change his designation and colours. Unless… unless they reprogrammed him. Starscream shuddered uneasily, cold shivering along his back struts; reprogramming was a nasty weapon and dangerous to all, its success always leaving a lot to ask, the mechs created that way only good for crazed shock-troops where they could point them in the right direction and get out of their way. As much as he hated the Autobots this thing was simply never their way – and that Bumblebee was reported lucid, albeit inexperienced. So how could he connect these pieces of puzzle into something of a theory?

Thundercracker on the other servo… well, Starscream felt guilty for that in retrospect; they've been flying together for ages and he was Trine; and he ordered the seriously injured Seeker to be left on the battlefield. By Seeker law what he did was unforgivable, even if noone would ever dare to accuse him for it. He disbanded the Trine when he sent Skywarp to death and left Thundercracker to his, and for what? He was angry and annoyed by the teleporter and fed up with TC's moping for his dead mate. Was he justified in his actions, or guilty of them? As far as he was concerned, they have abandoned him long ago and only tradition kept them together as Trine – trines weren't just disbanded like common soldier units, they were for life. As far as the members lived the Trine did too, no matter their enmity towards each other. Starscream tried to find examples in his Vosian history files in which trine-mates were separated from each other and found new ones but couldn't; either they found the lost members, or remained an incomplete trine.

So, where did that left him? Thundercracker was certainly alive, albeit defected to the Autobots. Skywarp might be somehow alive although the more he thought about it, the more it was giving him the chills. But he had two new mates in the Command Trine and… Starscream sat up straight as the thoughts suddenly started to tumble in his processor. He hasn't initiated Trine ritual with the newcomers and didn't even intend to. Not that Megatron would ever notice the difference, but he knew and that meant Silverstorm realized it too – the mech wasn't completely stupid, and young as he was he had to know about the ritual even if he hasn't mentioned it. Now that he thought about it the Air Commander was instinctly sure why he hasn't done such a basic thing – because he couldn't, not until his old Trine existed… sort of. Exactly how, he was not sure, but the bond was faintly still there. He looked to the box in the corner of his room where their scant remaining belongings were put and brought to him… he didn't know what to do with them, but couldn't just throw the thing out either. Why exactly Silverstorm felt it necessary to bring them here – to remind him of his responsibility to the Trine?

Trine is bonding too. Not the same as a creator-sparkling bond, not nearly strong enough like that between bondmates or twins; but it was a kind of a bond exclusive to Seekers. When the prospective trine members met, they instinctly felt drawn to their future mates, and thus the bond started to form; then a short time later, when they got to know each other and sorted out rank and position, they performed the Trine ritual, and with it the bond was finalized. Throughout their lives Seekers sometimes, when they felt the need performed the ritual again; usually when the members argued, fought or simply distanced from each other and so bonds weakened. But they didn't do it for so long and they didn't even felt the urge any more… Starscream remembered that Thundercracker had brought it up a few times, long ago, but neither 'Warp, nor he was ready to make up differences, to trust again – and it was forgotten, lost, broken. No, not broken. The ends of the bond still whispered in his spark even though barely perceivable, hardly recognizable as to who were on its other ends. Should he find them, should he make amends and reknit the Trine? Or break with the past finally and for good and make a new Trine with the youngsters?

Starscream slowly wore a path into the floor of his quarters as he continued his musings. New Trine or old, both would require trust from him as well as from the other two. Would he dare to trust TC who defected or that entity that Skywarp somehow became? They were Autobots now and even if he could lure the blue Seeker back, Bumblebee was a different matter entirely. The reports clearly indicated that he was a new personality, a new Seeker, not Skywarp, with no bonds, no loyalty to any other Seeker – or to him, the Air Commander. Not many grounders knew why Autobots had not used such title, even though they did have a few fliers; but the Air Commander traditionally was the highest ranking Cybertronian flier, the rank originating way before the war and the factions; third after only the Prime and the Lord Protector. But the Autobots kept that knowledge hidden, and by this time of the war most people forgot about it; they couldn't let their remaining few fliers too go over to the other side in case they discovered it. So he had no influence over this Seeker and probably not much over Thundercracker either to build any trust on. At least the new Seekers were a clean slate – he would have better chance with them. The only problem Starscream had was that everything he felt from trine bond remains till shared past drew him towards his old mates; while every logical argument he could think of pushed him towards the new ones.

Bumblebee

Bumblebee left the officers' shared quarters running, careening almost blindly on the corridors till he reached the safety of his room. He was glad for once of not meeting anyone during his flight, as he doubted that he could have held any sort of composure, never mind his usual cheerfulness. That last look that they shared sealed his resolve and mumbling an empty excuse, extricated himself from their tangle and left them as he was, complete with paint-streaks and assorted fluids smeared all over his frame, wings quivering high and nervous. He washed the worst of the mess off at the public washracks, blessedly empty at this late joor but couldn't stay for long, the thoughts making a racket in his processor chased him into his quarters. He needed to think it over. How did it go so bad…?

_ When Jazz had caught his servo on the corridor, and pulled him into the room with Prowl already there, he thought that finally he can talk to them, clear his doubts, ease his fears… but Jazz was all over him once the door swooshed closed behind him, and Prowl not much reserved either. He was soon teased into a blessed stupor and from then on his only coherent thoughts were about 'facing. Some time later though when they all lay on the berth, tangled into a messy heap, he tried to bring it up, he really tried. But he hardly even got to the topic of the secrecy before Prowl dismissed all his arguments – and from then on everything just got worse…_

"_Bee, I really don't think it would be greeted positively to have two of your superiors openly as lovers. You know, showing favoritism is not encouraged."_

"_But Jazz is not my superior any more…"_

"_But everyone knows that we are bonded. Be reasonable…"_

"_You know Prowl, it is kinda hard to turn down overtures from others without saying why and remain friendly with people. Also I thought you guys are not possessive or jealous, but I cannot help but notice you sometimes coming down heavily on TC – while he doesn't know about us."_

_Prowl at least had the decency of looking slightly guilty at that even as he denied it out loud._

"_No, it has nothing to do with you, Bee. I simply don't trust him yet."_

"_With Autobot issues or with me?"_

"_You know that he only sees Skywarp in you!"_

"_Heya guys, calm down! It doesna' help to shout at each other…" – it was rare that Jazz had to calm Prowl and not the other way round. – "Prowler, ya can't know that actually. Have ya talked with 'im?"_

"_No, but it is obvious. Why would a Seeker be interested in Bumblebee?"_

"_Thanks Prowl." – Bumblebee's voice was colder than space. – "Good to know that you don't think I could be interesting for myself. Means I am here only because for your 'face drive only one partner is not enough." – The yellow Seeker was out of the berth and the room in a klik, Prowl looking after him with an alarmed but uncomprehending expression, while Jazz held his helm with his servos. ::You were great, Prowler::, he sent through the bond, ::exactly the thing to tell him to send him away - and into TC's embrace probably.::_

He didn't leave the room until he had to go to patrol, fortunately with Fireflight, who safely chattered on about wildly varying topics and he only had to remind the youngster to keep to their route every now and then. He thanked to Primus that the patrol went on without sighting any Cons – his processor didn't really feel like able to deal with anything more serious that flying in a more or less straight line. Disbelief still swirled in his meta as he was still trying to wrap his CPU around Prowl saying such hurtful, inconsiderate words to his face. Bumblebee, like most minibots, had had a healthy dose of insecurity of being less able to contribute to the war as the bigger bots; and even though being a good spy alleviated it professionally, it did nothing to heal him on the personal level. It was exactly the attention of the two officers that started to do that – until Prowl's words awakened his bitter experiences in regards to relationships. Bumblebee hid the rest of the next orn in his quarters, for once not wanting to speak with anyone until he could calm down a bit – but his mood seemed to go darker by every passing orn.

It was almost two full orns after that night when his door chime sounded again, this time his comm coming alive too with Thundercracker's voice – '_Hi Bee, are you busy? I've come over to talk, are you in there?_'

He considered ignoring both, but didn't want to be rude with the blue Seeker, so after some musing, he opened the door.

"I'm not busy, just thinking about some… things." – he finished the sentence lamely, remembering a bit too late to hitch up his wings from their sadly drooping position.

"They must be some difficult things by the way you look." - Thundercracker didn't miss either the wings, the expression on his faceplates or his dejected, little sigh. This was not one happy Seeker there. – "If you want to talk about it…"

"I… I kinda… sometimes I feel worthless. I mean, I know I am not, but sometimes some people just… make me feel like so."

"Worthless? Why in the Pit would anyone think you worthless? I can't imagine any of the 'Bots to tell you that." – But Bumblebee wasn't comforted by his words, quite the opposite. But he seemed to turn the conversation away from the uncomfortable topic.

"Thundercracker… I know it is strange… and probably painful to ask from you so I am sorry, but… are you interested in me because I remind you of Skywarp?" - after asking the question, Bumblebee looked about as insecure as a frightened sparkling confronted by an angry Megatron. He dreaded the answer even as he wanted to know it too; and it didn't help that he wasn't sure if he wanted an honest answer or a comforting one. Or what it was that he felt towards the blue Seeker. Thundercracker knew that honesty was his best option – Bumblebee might be disturbed but he would see through a petty lie.

"At first… yes, I saw him in you. But then and ever since I tried very hard to see you for what you, Bumblebee are – and not Skywarp. I do have my weak moments every now and then, I admit that… but I honestly and definitely appreciate you for who you are now." – he didn't dare to say love just yet.

"Thank you…" an emotion-filled yellow Seeker turned his back to the blue one; he needed to have a few kliks to calm down his wildly swirling emotions and see what he felt. – "I think… I think I like you too, Thundercracker. But I do not want to be a… substitute for something that you'd lost."

"I wouldn't want you to be that either. I loved Skywarp, but much as it pains me, he is deactivated, meaning dead. It took me long enough to come to terms with that fact… but you helped in it by being you and not him."

Bumblebee felt his spark warmed by Thundercracker's words. He was honest, that much was sure, and it meant that Prowl was wrong, his words were not true… and with the realization he felt that much distanced from the SIC in every way and closer to the suddenly so much _there_ other Seeker. His flaring wings showed his mood perfectly for once – for the blue Seeker standing just behind him, who'd though he might never see the inviting, approving, enticing little twitch from the yellow wings…

Thundercracker

Thundercracker stood behind the still yellow Seeker, a black servo barely touching the edge of the inviting left wing in front of him, half asking a wordless permission, half giving a silent encouragement, stroking along it with a deliberately slow motion towards the tip. When he reached it, repeated the motion as slowly, if not even slower than the first time, noting the slightest quiver of the yellow metal underneath it. He moved closer, cockpit jut touching Bumblebee's back and lifted the other servo to gently caress the slim yellow waist, stopping only to be certain of the reaction of the touches. Bumblebee shivered as he felt the caress on his wing, pleasure and denial warring in him as he experienced it; he was still not sure if he wanted the blue-black Seeker's attention this way or not. His body certainly did, it yearned for the oh-so-familiar touch with fervor, it wanted the lost mate, the lover, the body that was his; but his meta was still in a turmoil, not knowing what to do, what to feel, what to give in to…

He liked the brooding and serious Seeker and felt for him; his loss, his comeback, his silent, gentle courting lately that he recognized even though haven't answered to yet. Together with what his body yearned for, Bumblebee gave in to his desire and turned towards him, lifting his own servo and twinning with its counterpart in a silent affirmation... in reaction the other servo moved to stroke his other wing with more confident motions while the black helm tilted down towards his own until the lips found his and moved in for a cautious kiss. They tasted each other amidst strange feelings, knowing but not knowing the other at the same time; the blue Seeker trying his best not to let ghosts enter into his meta while explored the mouth that looked slightly different but tasted just the same as before. In the meanwhile the yellow jet was still fighting a bit with his conscience but rapidly loosing it to the instinct that demanded him to give up struggling and enjoy the lost and found mouth. Rarely had so many thoughts and conflicting emotions entered into a short kiss as they had, and it totally occupied their minds; the slowly exploring servos froze where they were, while the processors were all tied up. But the emotion-charged kiss fired them up again and let some inhibitions loose too, letting them both move more freely, more boldly on the other.

Bumblebee's black servos slid over the dark blue wings, touching off remembered points that fired pleasure into the Seeker's mind who moaned into the kiss and fondled the yellow wings with his own servos, knowing that the repaint did not change the sweet-spots that he too remembered. Wings fluttered and trembled under knowing touches, their sensors firing up one by one under the expert fingers that slid on the edges, touched off the flaps, pressed into ailerons… the two Seekers were not thinking much by this time, no ghosts or doubts entered into the pleasure-fogged processors any more. They were there, the love and desire was there and it was enough. The starting gentler caresses became burning and stronger, more daring with want and the assurance that the other wanted it just as much. Thundercracker took off one servo from the wings with almost a regret, but lifting it between their flush bodies, he stroked the cockpit just so… and was rewarded with mewls of pleasure that were unfamiliar but he loved them all the same; and Bumblebee retaliated with a renewed attack of the servos in the joints of his armor, the dangerous claws toying with wires just under the pain-level that totally turned him on.

His fingers that so far stroked the cockpit, slowly moved downwards, discovering anew the plates of armor that he used to know until they arrived at the crotch-plate and fondled the already heating metal there. Bumblebee groaned lustily and ground his hip into the blue Seeker's, eliciting a purring sound coming deep from him as they kissed again, his glossa hungrily discovering the hot mouth. His panel retracted under the maddeningly teasing fingers and they found his valve, already dripping lubricants and dipped teasingly into its wet heat. He moaned loudly as the fingers stroked around the valve, making the fine platelets around the entrance shudder and flex in preparation of receiving. Thundercracker felt the fingers caressing his wings still and the hot body pressing into his own, while he slowly pressed a finger into the waiting, ready valve and felt is shudder around him. He didn't need to work him up a lot, as he already felt the charge building in the other's body and adding another finger to the first he started pushing them in slowly first, and then picking up the tempo of pumping them into the valve, until he heard the yellow jet's breathy, needy moan in his mouth. His own panel retracted then and Bumblebee's servo suddenly left his wings and moving to his crotch pressed the release lever beside his spike; and as it came out, the servo grasped it, stroking slowly over its length, a thumb toying with its end until he could barely stand on his suddenly shaky legs any more. They both sank to their knees then, one servo each still between them, one pushing fingers into the dripping valve, the other stroking the ready spike, mouths hungrily devouring each other – while the other servos hugged them close, keeping them both upright and supporting each other.

Thundercracker took out his fingers from the valve then, and lifting them to his mouth, licked Bumblebee's lubricant from them. Scuttling even closer on his knee-joints he lined up his eager spike to the valve entrance and belying his slow, gentle approach so far, pushed into the hot wetness with gusto, freeing a loud, passionate cry from the yellow jet as he felt it penetrating his valve. Thundercracker thrust into him forcefully and felt the valve around him clench in pleasure as he withdraw some before pushing again, groaning his own ecstasy into the neck cables just in front of him. Bumblebee returned his servos to the cockpit, kneading and stroking the sensitive areas with more strength now, delving deep into sensitive seams and wires, mouth hungrily nibbling along the wing and continuing to moan and whimper as he felt the thick spike move in him deeper and deeper. The blue jet picked up his tempo of thrusting when he hit the back of the valve, the sensor node there firing up and eliciting another loud cry of pleasure from the yellow Seeker, as he moved out all but the tip of his spike before pushing back forcefully. Bumblebee didn't complain about the roughing thrusts at all, in fact they evoked even more passionate sounds from him as the penetrating spike gave a complete workout to all his sensors on the sensually rolling walls of the valve.

His servos feverishly stroked and kneaded the other's sensitive spots, mouth alternately kissed him or run his glossa over the sensitive helm crest that caused the blue jet buckle his hip into him in a sudden fire of sensation travelling through his chassis, almost loosing his concentration and just withholding his overload for a bit more. He thrust his spike into the valve with a force, grinding his crotch into the other Seeker for just a few more deep, strong pushes while his fangs nipped at the neck cables and growled into them with animal abandon… and with the last, powerful thrust he hilted his spike into the delicious wet heat and felt the valve walls clench around him tightly, heard Bumblebee's lips open to a loud, enraptured scream and saw the overload curse through him – and it took the blue Seeker into his own ecstatic overload as he filled the valve with his hot fluid. Their ringing cry twinned in the air just as the charges running through their bodies twinned and stole the energy from their limbs to hold them upwards, toppling them together onto the floor in a satisfied heap, minding only the sensitive wings with long learned reflexes.

Bumblebee rode the rolling waves of ebbing pleasure, the thick spike buried to the hilt in his valve, the black servos holding his own yellow chassis almost crushed to the blue one, cockpits sliding alongside each other as they keeled to the side, wings there hitched backwards, servos propping them up. His servos twitched some more still where they last were, buried into the seams, his vents working overtime to cool down the overheated metal, and his valve still rolling with the lapsing waves of pleasure around Thundercracker's spike. The other seeker was in much the same condition, coming down from his overload, spasming and jerking a bit in him and around him, almost purring with contentment… his slowly clearing optics found Bumblebee's and a silent agreement flowed between them; that instead of thinking and worrying too much as they were both wont to do, they could in the future just… take it easy and take it… well, almost like Skywarp would have. The soft kisses and sated strokes along the wings just sealed the love.

"I love you." – Thundercracker whispered into his audial, a servo caressing his wings, feeling truly alive once again. It was so good to be able to express his feelings, to even have such feelings again – and have them returned too. He knew that Bumblebee was not that decided yet, he felt the other's still conflicting emotions, but that meant there was something to be undecided about – he must feel something in return towards him, even if he wasn't sure of it yet. He was patient though, and he could build on that feeling. He kissed the lips so that they didn't have to say anything that he wouldn't want to. In time it would come.


	7. Choosing

**7. Choosing**

Starscream

He decided to open the box. Silverstorm piled together everything that he found in the quarters formerly occupied by Thundercracker and Skywarp and deposited the crate in his room without a word. Starscream had expected the pieces to evoke memories, but he didn't prepare for such a strong emotion as he felt when pulled the very first item out – a drawing of them in Vos, before the war, young, enthusiastic and full of life; vibrant colours side by side, wingtips just touching with an affection he hasn't felt for ages… his resolve to remember crumbled and shoving back the drawing on top of the other trinkets, he angrily snapped shut the lid again.

"IT IS ALL GONE!" - he screamed into the silence of his room, into the racket of his mind before he would go mad. – "Collect yourself Starscream, it won't do to lose your sanity." – not that talking to oneself in third person indicated a particularly healthy frame of processor. He seriously considered blasting the whole crate to the Pit, and preferably Thundercracker with it too and forgetting about them completely. He can't go back. Suddenly he sprang from the chair and stormed out of his quarters, intent on getting out, getting away from… from something that he didn't, couldn't even name. But he didn't get far and what stopped him was the one he definitely didn't want to see. Megatron stood on his way, looming threateningly over the Seeker skidding to a suddenly frightened stop.

"What have I heard Starscream? The Autobots suddenly have not only one but two Seekers – the ones you told me were gone, deactivated and you haven't seen fit to inform me about them? Explain yourself!"

"I… My Lord, but they were gone! I didn't know…" – he didn't get far with the explanation, as Megatron's servo closed around his neck with enough force to bend plates and shut him up.

"You told me that Thundercracker and Skywarp were both dead!"

Starscream could only choke and look pleadingly as he was shaken like a sparkling and thrown to the floor. His crushed neck hurt like hell, and of course everyone was avoiding this part of the base while the enraged Megatron taught his SIC another lesson in humility. It didn't really matter what he said or tried to say – the gunformer wasn't really interested in explanations, not when he got into one of these moods. He could only beg and plead in a hope that he wouldn't get deactivated, even if his trip was surely ending in the repair bay – yet again. But when his consciousness started to fade, he heard an unexpected voice intruding on the beating and causing it to stop. Two shapes, one whitish and one dark stood beside him, shielding his battered frame from Megatron, causing him to blink is shock too; not many aside from Soundwave dared to interfere ever with his lessons to the Seeker.

"Lord Megatron, we beg to rectify that mistake. They shall be deactivated at the first chance to redeem the honour of the Trine." – Silverstorm knew better than ask Megatron to spare Starscream – the only chance he had was if they succeeded to draw the warlord's attention from him and offer another target instead; and do it in a way to pique his interest too, so it wouldn't get them into the punishment. It seemed to work, he noted…

His words were so unexpected that Megatron could only gape at them; the silver-white and the black-and-copper Seekers standing boldly on the two sides of their Trine leader, crumpled broken on the floor; but they showed proper respect and their intrusion was so unusual that he was actually considering to let them get away with their scheme – whatever it was.

"All right, you will get one chance to redeem yourselves – and if you are willing to share your worthless leader's mistake, then so be it. But if you fail, you will all suffer the consequences." – he added in his most ominous, threatening voice, glowering at Silverstorm, who has spoken up. For a fleeting second he even admired the boldness of the young Seeker who dared to stand up to him – it took a certain character to do so and still remain respectful. The Seeker might have a future if he could keep this up – in Starscream's case he would certainly watch his back. But then Trines worked mysteriously for him, not always by the same logic as the rest of his Decepticons.

"And see to that pile of scrap that you call a leader…" – the scorn and disdain that dripped from his voice hurt Starscream a bit more than the injuries he inflicted. He was almost numb with the pain of the half-finished beating and the surprise of his Trine mates actually standing up for him, and felt the other two lifting him and cautiously help him towards the repair bay while Megatron turned and left to his quarters.

"We can solve this problem, Commander. But first we must talk, so we know what is there to know about your former mates."

Talk they did – and planned. It wasn't trust, not yet, but by supporting him they appeared to be all in the same mess, succeeding or failing together. In a way it decided the dilemma for Starscream that he didn't want to talk about; and he knew what to do with the boxful of things in his quarters. Swindle will know how to go about it.

Prowl

It took Jazz a long time to explain to him what ticked Bumblebee off during that night. He didn't mean to say that Bumblebee was not interesting to other mechs; he said that Thundercracker was interested only to see Skywarp in him – and he really thought that so. But as Jazz elaborated on it, he was forced to admit that someone with self-confidence issues could take that statement in a broader meaning than he intended it with – which apparently Bumblebee did. It left them both sad and as the yellow Seeker started to avoid them Prowl got very frustrated by not being able to explain what he meant and clear the issue. Jazz still said that things would work out if they didn't push, but he was not as sure of it as his mate. Since Bumblebee was a flier and under Silverbolt's command, neither of them saw him as often as before, and he could quite effectively disappear from them if he wanted to. Apparently he started to avoid the rec-room too, if the twins were any reliable source of information on that; he couldn't be sure of that though, as they surprisingly liked the former minibot and often took his side against anyone else.

But unlike Bumblebee, the neutral Seeker was under his jurisdiction, so he had a perfect excuse to check on him as often as he wanted. Granted, he did nothing suspicious so far, but if it was just a deception Prowl wouldn't have expected anything else. So, when the entrance guards notified him that some humans turned up with a big crate, addressed to Thundercracker, he was immediately leery of it. Arriving to the entrance, he saw the Seeker turning up too, and tensed as he saw Bumblebee with him, like he belonged to his side... But his attention remained on the crate still.

"Thundercracker, I must ask you what is in that box. I cannot allow you to bring unknown materials into the Ark."

"I have no idea. I didn't expect to receive anything and no sender is marked on it." – the Seeker actually looked honestly bemused; he was either a good actor or the package was really a surprise to him.

"Then you agree to open it so we can see what it is?"

"Of course. You can scan it for anything dangerous too."

He commed to Wheeljack, who then scanned the crate for explosives or unstable materials, but found none. When they unlocked and lifted the lid Prowl heard a sharp intake from Thundercracker – leaning over the box he saw assorted junk and personal belongings, including a drawing on the top, which presumably caused the distress for the Seeker. Lifting it out he saw a beautiful sketch of three Seekers – marred only by a very real hole, complete with slightly burned edges, where the spark should be on the purple and black one. On closer inspection he also noticed the painted-on target on the blue figure, with a small Autobot symbol as the bull's-eye. If that was not a clear-cut message then he didn't know what was; and Prowl felt a twinge of sympathy towards Thundercracker for a nanoklik – until he turned towards the Seeker and saw Bumblebee's servo slowly, soothingly stroking the drooping blue wings…

Thundercracker

"I shouldn't have expected anything else from Starscream…" – he murmured, silently appreciating the gentle caress from Bee, for once not giving a scrap to what Prowl thought of it. - "It wasn't like we were a real Trine for a long time." – they were leaving, going back to Thundercracker's room, bearing the crate with them that passed the examination.

"Still it was particularly cruel to send you that… I know little about Starscream, but I wouldn't have expected such theatrics from him, like that target. I mean, we knew that he would be angry at seeing you alive and here, but this is… almost childish. I can't imagine Starscream, the Decepticon SIC, Air Commander and whatnot painting a target on somebody to threaten…"

"Yeah, it is not really like him. I mean, I fully expected him to just destroy my belongings, or not even think of them at all. I wonder what caused this…"

"Was this drawing made before the war? I guess it had a significance…"

"Yes… just after we met and formed the Trine. I met Skywarp and we looked for our third for a while before he visited Vos from the Academy and we saw him first. He was just disowned by his creator for not going to the Military Academy but choosing sciences, and he sat at one of the high balconies, his brilliant colours vibrating in the setting sun, standing out from the grey metal of the building – we both knew at once that he was the one we were looking for. And he was." – Thundercracker paused a bit, checking unobtrusively how Bumblebee was taking the reminiscence about the other Seekers, and saw with pleasure that he was listening truly interested and not in the very least uncomfortable of hearing about his lover's old lovers. - "We became the best Trine because we supplemented each other perfectly; in abilities, temperaments and function. After the Trine ritual, we went back to that spot, and had this drawing made. I kept it because 'Warp wasn't interested in sentimental keepsakes and Star couldn't bear to look at the Vos cityscape after it was destroyed. I managed to keep it undamaged through all these eons and now he simply… shot it…"

"I think Sunny can repair it… if you'd like I can ask him."

"Sunny…? You mean Sunstreaker?" – Thundercracker's shock was almost palpable. He knew the warrior twins of course, they caused him many crashes and injuries with the infamous Jet Judo, which he was only happy of not being directed at him any more; but why would Bumblebee entrust one of them with a damaged drawing…?

"Ohh… you don't know of course! Sunny is a very talented artist. I guess it doesn't show on the battlefield." – he smirked at the comically shocked features of the blue Seeker.

"Uhh… I really didn't know about it. But it would be nice to have it fixed."

"Sure, I will ask him. Ummm… TC… I've bee meaning to ask… I read a bit about Trines and such, but there isn't much about it in our library. But this picture reminded me about one thing I found here: that Trines are for life. I do wonder… how is that working in your… in our… in this case?"

Thundercracker nodded to himself; he expected this question sooner or later, down to the shaky personal pronoun that he too had problems with.

"It might be why Starscream chose to send my things back and explains the picture. You see, Trines are for life, it is true, but there are some more obscure laws and traditions governing Seekers that you'd not find in an Autobot library. Or in any library, as our traditions were mostly kept verbally. Trine leaders have responsibilities that usually come naturally if a Trine works optimally; but which Starscream has systematically shirked over a really long time. For a while those only alienated us from him, and made the trine less coordinated, less perfect. But what he did in that battle was inexcusable. By Seeker law he became unfit to be a leader, and me, as his second could have challenged him – and if the third agreed disbanded the Trine. It wasn't often done… in fact almost never, but still it was possible."

"So… maybe he sent you this message, because he wants you to do it… to be free of a Trine he doesn't want any more?"

"I am not sure… it still wouldn't really be the Starscream that I knew to play psychological games for any reason. I think he would rather shoot me dead – and he apparently doesn't consider you as a Trine member. But maybe he wants a new Trine in whatever way he can manage it…"

"I think after that message you should get back your weapons. I wouldn't want you to be unarmed out there…"

"Yeah, I've been thinking about that. I don't think Prowl trust me yet… but I'll ask him."

Bumblebee

Bumblebee simply knew that Prowl wouldn't give back Thundercracker's weapons therefore he wasn't surprised when the Seeker came back scowling, quite obviously knowing why Prowl was so cold and formal with him. He grabbed the damaged drawing to take it to Sunstreaker, and after convincing him to help, he went straight to the Prime's office. Signaling him, and being bid to enter the office, he saw that Optimus was surprised by his visit; he didn't go to the top often, usually preferring the normal channels.

"What can I help you Bumblebee? It doesn't look like a social call."

"No Sir, it is not. I came on Thundercracker's behalf. Have you heard of the message that Starscream sent him?"

"No, I don't remember hearing about it."

"It was a threat… an old drawing of the Seeker Trine, with a target painted on him. Because of it, he asked Prowl to get back his weapons to be able to defend himself, but he refused."

"I see. And you disagree."

"Yes Sir. He gave no indication of anything suspicious, and the message clearly shows that the Decepticon Air Commander considers him an enemy."

"And you don't think that Prowl can accurately calculate the risks?"

"I think Prowl allows personal dislike to influence his decision."

"Bumblebee, that is a serious accusation, you know that. Are you sure you aren't influenced by things… personal?"

"Sir, with all due respect I'd rather err to the side of Thundercracker's safety. If there was the slightest indication of him being a danger to the Autobots, I'd understand the caution; but as there has been no such indication whatsoever, I cannot in good conscience consent to it."

"I see. I do think that you have a point there and I will discuss the matter with Prowl and Thundercracker. As Neutral, I still hesitate to let him go around armed, but if he is in danger outside, we will have to find a solution for the problem."

"Thank you, Sir."

He decided to stop hiding in his quarters after that – after all it was becoming a bit ridiculous – and after coming out from the Prime's office, he made his way to the rec-room. The time being after the main shifts, he saw many groups around the tables and he waved to some of them, like to the twins and the Protectobots as he made his way towards the energon dispenser. After drawing a cube though he continued towards the back part of the room, making a beeline towards a very distinctive pair of blue wings there; nodding only with the smallest of gestures to the two black and whites who sat nearby. Making it around Thundercracker, he chose a stool on his other side facing the main part of the room, and very deliberately and visibly nudged the blue wing just beside him with a wingtip of his own, which of course elicited a similar a reaction from Thundercracker. Skyfire, the other occupant of the stools watched them fondling with a bit of a surprise and not a little bemusement.

Bumblebee knew that Prowl wouldn't make a scene in the crowded rec-room; after his insistence to keep their affair secret it would have made quite a scandal if he would suddenly try and wedge between the two Seekers. Not that he left a lot of space between them in which anyone would be able to fit. He wasn't that sure of Jazz, who was always the more impulsive of the two, but so far the two officers were not reacting visibly to his display and he stopped watching them in favor of paying attention to the topic that Thundercracker was elaborating on; about Seekers, Trines and Starscream in particular.

It was a fascinating tale really; he had always known that the Decepticon Air Commander was a controversial mech to say at least, but TC's tale shed more light in just how fragmented and colourful his meta was. The melancholic sorrow was clear from his voice as he regaled them with stories of the young Starscream and the early vorns of their Trine; but it was also clear that he considered it a thing of the past, closed, ended, finished with; worthy of remembering, but not affecting the present. By the time he finished, Bumblebee realized that half a dozen Autobots came closer, listening in to the tale; and he was glad to see that none of them reacted negatively to either the blue Seeker telling it, or at Starscream's name that usually drew disdain and insults among the crew.

Silverstorm

A routine patrol again and there was only the two of them this time. Starscream was ever so slightly more open with them than before, but apparently the mech still had a long way to go before he could really accept them. True, he was thankful of their show of support against Megatron, but still, aside from the battle last week, in which he was with them, giving orders and flying in formation together – he seemed to keep his distance from them still. Pit, he talked with Soundwave more than with his own Air Commander and the telepath wasn't a conversationalist by any stretch of the concept. But when he saw the tricolored Seeker he always got the feeling that he was for some reason still suspicious of them, albeit Silverstorm couldn't even imagine the reason why. The explanation that he gave for the two Seekers in the Autobot ranks weren't really adequate or even fully believable; he left out completely why his old Trine-mate, Thundercracker would defect to the Autobots after fighting on his side, for the Decepticon cause for eons. Maybe the rumours that he had heard were actually true for once…? Such rumours among Decepticons were usually less than half true, if not complete fabrications, created only to discredit enemies or rivals, and he learned to mistrust them long ago; but this time… he would need to gain information, because if it was true, then Starscream was unfit to be a Trine leader, much less Air Commander.

This whole mess with the suddenly appearing Seekers on the Autobot side was disturbing; on a personal level as well as militarily and now they had Megatron's threat looming over their helms too. But he must know the facts first and for that he must meet with this Thundercracker mech; obviously he would tell his side, and the truth would, as usual be in the middle. On a hunch, he opened a little-known Seeker frequency that Starscream's old Trine-mates should know about, to issue an invitation.

"Thundercracker and Skywarp/Bumblebee – I, Silverstorm invoke Seeker law over factions to seek information. Meet us?"

Of course he didn't expect an answer outright, didn't even know if they were outside flying, or in range at all. He felt his brother's curiosity exuding from his frame, but as usual, he didn't ask straight away; Silverstorm felt confident with the quiet trust behind him and would explain everything in time. He repeated the invitation a few times, complete with a set of coordinates, and while awaiting an answer, he discussed the matter with Whipping Star. A scant half-joor later the frequency opened up again with a short, gruff answer and a time-frame:

"We'll be there. Truce?"

"Seeker-kin. Truce."

They set off to the place at once.


	8. Losing

**Note**: it is a shorter chapter because I mainly wanted to explore the Seeker-talk in it, although it advances the plot too. If anyone would care to comment on the wing-language that I try to express, I'd love to read them in reviews. Generally I imagine pure Seeker-talk as highly formalized and circumlocutory, while generously complemented by wing movements that serve both to express underlying emotions and particulars.

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><p><strong>8. Losing<strong>

Bumblebee

"I think it is quite suspicious. I mean, I know that I'm not a real Seeker, so probably that's why I can't just trust when a totally unknown Decepticon jet just calls a truce out of the blue and wants to talk about an unspecified topic in a place of his own choosing. No matter what Seeker law he is invoking – btw, how do you know what he was talking about?"

They were already en route to the meeting place, after Bumblebee commed Silverbolt about the detour, even though he deliberately clouded over the details. He suspected that the gestalt leader was thinking them making out somewhere, and he didn't say anything to disprove the idea. After vorns of dealing with four unruly jets never really caring for regulations, Silverbolt wasn't in the very least surprised by a pair of Seekers just going off their patrol route – if anything he was surprised that they notified him about it. But of course, he reasoned, Bumblebee was a responsible mech and gaining wings didn't change that attribute of him. Since Thundercracker so far seemed not to stir up any trouble, as he seemed to follow the yellow Seeker's lead in basically everything, Silverbolt saw no reason to see anything alarming in their behaviour.

"How do I know? There can be only one thing he could invoke, the bit that I told you about earlier – he is Starscream's second and he wants to know what happened. Notice that he called you Skywarp/Bumblebee, so he is fairly sure of that matter. But yeah, it is suspicious."

"And what can we do about it, except not going there?"

"Be on our turbines?"

"Awww… a great time to show your rare humorous streak."

"Hey, it is me without weapons and a warp-gate…" – if alt modes could smirk, Thundercracker's would have then; he wasn't really worried and knew that Bumblebee was only grumbling too – "Just don't forget to use it if we need. Curious how much you don't use it – 'Warp rarely walked any distance if he could jump."

"I see no point in warping if I can walk. But I often practiced using it in combat scenarios, so I guess I won't forget about it."

"I'll be keeping a servo on you, just in case..." – this time the smile was there, in the particular twitch of the wings, and Bumblebee answered with an accompanying flounce. Lately he was getting hang of the wing movements, and it made his presence that much smoother, natural, easier to be with. Not to mention the kind of activities he could now intimate without anyone else understanding them; it became a sort of a not-quite-verbal foreplay between them to talk dirty in public, since not even the other fliers knew the wing-language to this depth. But even out here, in jet mode they enjoyed the silent communication of the wings; it completed the already heady feeling of flight marvelously.

"Btw, do you know anything about these particular Seekers?"

"No, there was little contact between those on Cybertron and us. The only significant bit of data in their files was that they came from Neutral background, from a colony. Pretty rare these orns and I would surmise that they weren't fully trusted because of it."

"No, there aren't many Neutral colonies any more… but then they might be more… reasonable, than most Decepticons?"

"Yeah, so far they sounded fairly normal. Like the last time you met them - that wasn't how a typical Decepticon Trine, like the Coneheads would have reacted to you."

"But even so… could or would they act against Starscream? He is their Trine-leader and commander."

"They might… I am fairly sure that he didn't formally accept them yet as Trine. He couldn't have, not until I am alive… and that gives them a little room to maneuver. Not against him… but independently enough."

"So we might… just might not be heading into an ambush?"

"Spot on."

Silverstorm

They arrived in time, cautiously transforming and landing in the clearing that he chose for this meeting. It was far enough from both bases and Human population centers, a sizeable glade in the middle of a forest, giving them ample space to maneuver if needed. They awaited the Autobot Seekers on one side of it, weapon systems offline, and his brother slightly behind him on his customary place at the left shoulder, watching the approaching mechs with interest. Even after encountering each other once in jet form, it was the real first time that they truly met. They stood side by side, the yellow one holding his arm-weapons online, slightly raised, clearly more suspicious than his dark blue partner – and a partner he was, the telltale signs, the unconsciously touching wingtips clearly told that they had more than just neutral partnership; they were mates. Interestingly Thundercracker had neither faction markings nor visible weapons, and he was keeping a servo on his companion all the time, as they moved closer – obviously they counted on the Autobot Seeker's warping ability to get out if the situation turned dangerous. Silverstorm silently approved the sensible precaution, even as at the same time he felt insulted in his word not being trusted.

"We mean you no harm, as I promised – and expect you to do the same in return." – the yellow Seeker didn't power down his weapons in one bit, until a short internal conversation with the blue jet; apparently he wasn't familiar with the customs. At least he learned the wing-language since the last time; they were now talking far more than before, right then showing mistrust, suspicion and plenty of uncertainty.

_::Bee, it is considered rude not to trust his word, once we came here. They have their weapons offline and expect you to do the same. We scanned the whole area and nobody else is around either.::_

_::I don't trust Decepticons as a habit.::_

_::They are here as Seekers, not Decepticons. There is a difference.::_

Bumblebee was still unhappy with that, but didn't argue; it was clear that the Decepticon Seekers weren't talking until he was aiming his null-rays on them, and slowly powered them down, entrusting their escape if needed to his warp-generator. He wasn't afraid… but he had a very deep, very indistinct bad feeling, a foreboding that he couldn't reason or justify. It wasn't strong enough to just call an end to the whole thing and leave, not when he felt Thundercracker's eagerness to know what the other Seekers wanted, and tell them what he needed to tell about Starscream; but quite enough to let them do the talking and keep all his sensors sharp and ready. So far they were going on about some obscure Seeker-niceties if he was any judge of it; if it had any particular significance it escaped him. Seekers _were_ a complex bunch of characters with some rather peculiar customs. Hopefully they would get to the point sometime this orn – before too many notices their absence on the Ark.

"It is all well to be independent, but still your formation seems to lack its point." – the blue Seeker apparently wanted to get to the point and cut the opening formalities. Silverstorm didn't really blame him, albeit they were less than half through the customary greetings; his companion was outright edgy and growing impatient.

"There are complications with that point, as you can imagine." – no matter how nervous Bumblebee was, Silverstorm wasn't going to give any easy openings to the more experienced Seeker.

"I am sure there are. Like a certain superior who seems to be lacking certain necessary qualities in regards to Trine customs." – Thundercracker felt keenly that Bumblebee was put out by the dancing around the topic but it was necessary; Seekers simply weren't straightforward with so important issues, and apparently these Seekers were true to this custom.

"Such superiors must be the bane of one's existence."

"Indeed it is so. It has become apparent on particular occasions." – accompanied by a dry twinge of the left-side aileron, the one away from Bumblebee – signaling that he was ready to elaborate.

"It must be gratifying to have firm knowledge of such actions." – silvery wings arching slightly, asking politely while the black ones behind accentuating the honesty of the enquiry with a deep drop. It was a beautiful sight to see the two complementing frames act like one, expressing so much more than actual words could. The glade was quiet aside from the soft rustle of the wings and the sharper sounds of Cybertronian tonalities; the warm, rich green of the forest giving a beautiful background to the colourful frames that towered over most of the trees, facing each other in matching coloured pairs.

"Gratifying is not the word I'd call such knowledge. Lethal is more like it." – Thundercracker couldn't stop his wings flexing painfully backwards with the remembered crash. It was telling too much, too soon but he too was getting tired of the verbal dance, practiced last so long ago in Vos, where there were many Trines interacting; he decided to be a bit less formal and more straightforward.

"The Air Commander has abandoned his Trine long ago; his actions lately only solidified the break in the worst ways."

"Are you implying Divergence or Sufferance?" – Silverstorm was willing to speed up the tempo, as a normal conversation could have taken joors, which neither of them had. They were all soon to be searched for in their respective bases and customs were overshadowed by realities of the army.

"He is implying that Starscream was a royal aft for vorns." – Bumblebee thoroughly had enough of the circumlocution. – "Shall we just talk normally? You came here to get to know something, and I don't really mind if you call me unseekerlike for it afterwards, but I really can't see the point of this empty scrap-talk."

"You are still rude… but if you were a grounder as I heard, I suppose I must forgive you for not knowing Seeker customs. Gaining a pair of wings is apparently not enough for that." – two pairs of wings disapproved strongly of the interruption, not giving an inch from their disdaining set even after the apologizing flit from Bumblebee, who realized that he was placing Thundercracker at a disadvantage with his interjection.

"Still he is right. Basically Starscream was distancing himself from the Trine for vorns and no amount of persuasion could make him act like he cared. He refused the Trine ritual, as I suppose he refused it to you too…?" – half question, half statement, but he was fairly sure of the answer.

"He never offered it and we didn't pressure him. He has… issues with Megatron as well as apparently with… you. We saw the drawing."

"Yeah, Megatron… it was one reason I didn't press him much either. Had it stayed that way, it wouldn't have been a particularly good mood in the Trine, but still not Divergence. But when Skywarp disappeared it became just that; he didn't care and he voiced it openly that he was better off without him." – it still hurt, even after so much time clouding the memory. Thundercracker's wings drooped lower than before as he didn't care who saw his pain. Bee knew it and the other two just had to deal with him showing it openly.

"He was your mate." – it wasn't a question and the silver wings expressed polite sympathy. – "Starscream didn't give you reason?"

"They often quarreled, 'Warp was an annoying prankster and more loyal to Megatron than Starscream. It was enough for him."

"But it wasn't the reason why you defected?"

"No, at the time we all thought 'Warp deactivated. I tried to search but never found anything. Then, in a battle… I was shot down, seriously injured while Megatron ordered a retreat. Autobots overheard Starscream ordering me to be left behind. It was after I heard that he asked replacement Seekers from Cybertron – you."

There was a grave silence on the clearing, neither Seeker moving an inch after Silverstorm's wings arched up in utter disbelief. Even the forest silenced its rustling as the wind died down; for all the appearances, it might have been the sunset's calmness spreading over them, but they knew better. The implication of what Thundercracker said was that Starscream deliberately sent his second to his deactivation – a sin just short of murdering him with his own servos. Bumblebee sent the recording that Jazz gave him in a databurst to the white Seeker, who visibly shook at the proof, wings quivering in their stretched position.

"As far as I am concerned, he has disbanded the Trine, even if we made no formal noises whatsoever. I do not consider him my Trine-leader any more." – the blue wings hitched up in a sudden anger, flaring and twitching to punctuate his words, to give them as much weight as only a Seeker could. Not that his tone left any doubt of it. Silverstorm nodded, his wings signaling understanding and acceptance while the black ones behind were held motionless; in the complex scenario that evolved among the five of them it was for the Seconds and not his place to express judgment on the formalities. Bumblebee was apparently unsure of how to react, and eventually restrained his wings to a quiet rustle, signaling support and sympathy to Thundercracker personally – safely ignorable in the Trine context.

"I am honoring your assessment of the…"

The explosion that interrupted Silverstorm's words went off between the yellow and blue Seekers, throwing them apart, breaking their contact that they maintained so far for a necessary jump together.

Bumblebee

The explosion came unexpectedly, as not even a single suspicious movement registered on any of his sensors and it took both of them by surprise; he lost Thundercracker's contact with him, so didn't warp away as he planned at the first sign of the trouble. Even as he was crashing into the ground at the side of the clearing, he was powering up all weapons, jumping to his feet and whirling to see the others. Except… there were no others to be seen in the glade only a second explosion blinding him momentarily but going off quickly. Where they used to stand a huge crater marred the forest floor, the nearby trees flattened onto each other – and two jets could be seen over the forest, already putting distance between them and the destruction.

"Thundercracker!" – he was nowhere to be seen and Bumblebee turned towards the escaping Decepticon Seekers – his foreboding and suspicion was apparently right… he should have listened to it.

::What did you do to him?::

::We didn't.:: - the silvery jet circled back once, the black one going on the previous course and slightly dipping over the forest; neither coming close though.

::Who then?:: - Bumblebee too jumped into the air, intent on following them and fight if needed; but they had a head start and were speeding away already, making it impossible to catch even with jumping after them; they apparently knew his range.

::I kept my word.:: - an almost apologizing wiggle of the wings flashed last in the sunset before they disappeared from visual range.

Bumblebee gave up the impossible and futile chase and returned to the clearing, determined to find a sign of what happened and how. The explosive was planted on a nonsentient drone burrowing deep underground, impossible to catch on sensors and moving into position slowly, probably while they kept them talking. But how did Thundercracker disappear so fast? He was sure that nobody else was in the forest, not even cloaked – he spent enough time with Mirage to develop ways of sensing even invisible mechs. The answer, when he found it finally was under the ground as well; the tunnel was half caved in from the second explosion but its newness and the signs on the inner walls clearly indicated Cybertronian origin. It ended just a short distance, where the forest opened into a narrow valley, and there, on the soft ground he found many prints of huge threads and wheels, and among them small pieces of armor-plates, bent and broken, torn wires pressed into the muddy ground and scorch marks on nearby boulders – clear signs of a struggle, but everyone who was causing it gone by this time.

He followed the signs until he could but they soon reached rocky terrain and they disappeared; but the direction was definitely that of the Decepticon base. Bumblebee faced a difficult decision. Follow their direction in air or jump randomly, hope that he might catch up with them and able to fight successfully; or go back to the Ark and convince the Autobots to help Thundercracker to escape from the Decepticon base. Unfortunately neither option promised to be particularly favorable for him or TC. The foot-, and wheelprints showed at least three but maybe four big Decepticons, who'd also have the two Seekers to cover them; while convincing the unsympathetic Prowl to mount a rescue mission was going to be a real challenge. Still, he warped towards the direction they went to; but after several jumps that drained his reserves quickly he had to conclude that even if he found them, he wouldn't be able to fight successfully. If anything he would give them another captive if he wasn't careful.

It rankled to let Thundercracker taken away by Decepticons and not being able to follow – there were not many reasons why they wanted to capture him and neither boded well. On his way back to the Ark Bumblebee had plenty of time to think what went wrong and how he could have prevented it; and plenty of time to imagine what the Autobots would say, especially the officers. They absolutely shouldn't have gone to meet with Decepticon Seekers, he knew with a certainty and the fact might just preclude any possibility of a rescue mission too. It got TC into a deep trouble that very possibly mean his life and himself into a position of unable to rescue him or even get to know his fate…


	9. Watching

**Warning**: mentioning of torture

**Note**: I didn't bother researching Navy ranks and names, just went on with what I thought sunded good. Sorry for that.

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><p><strong>9. Watching<strong>

**Prime**

"Sir, I accept full responsibility for my actions. I will accept any disciplinary action that you see fit to impose on me. But I ask you to first mount a rescue of Thundercracker. Starscream wants him deactivated and he won't stall it long, not even if he decides to torture TC before."

Optimus Prime looked at Bumblebee, standing at attention before his desk, wings held stiffly, optics studiously avoiding his gaze. He never saw the former scout look so guilty and troubled; it was practically written on every plate and line of him. He also saw a fearful intensity flashing in his optics, something that told him a lot about just how close he got to the former Decepticon Seeker over the last few cycles. An angry Silverbolt stood stiffly on his left, glowering at the yellow Seeker, not expecting him to be duped by Decepticons, even as the case was a lesson to his own gestalt-members who still had a lingering awe towards the enemy Seekers. Prowl on the other side looked calm and collected on the surface, but as Optimus looked closely, he saw a telltale movement of his doorwings, the one subtly betraying hiding much that he didn't want to speak about. There was something brewing between the three of them; the two Seekers and his SIC, he was sure; and it wasn't nice either. But still… it was not Prowl he had to deal with right now.

"Bumblebee, I don't have to tell you how disappointed I am at what you two have done. What did you think of to just meet with the enemy on your own, without permission or backup?"

"Sir… Prime… I… thought that you encouraged me to fully discover Seeker traditions. Thundercracker told me that at least some Seeker things were beyond factions… and I believed him. Those two Seekers… have acted honorably before. I know now that I was wrong to assume…"

"Bumblebee, you breached all standing orders, broke regulations and fraternized with the enemy – to appease your… lover?" – of course Prowl would approach the matter from the regulations standpoint - and he at the same time he wasn't above using underhanded tactics to slag the visibly desperate Seeker a bit more, already close to break down completely. Even Silverbolt cast an annoyed glance at the tactician and he was definitely not on the Seekers' side at the moment, although he chose not to interfere. Bumblebee looked ready to bolt the room and he couldn't answer with words… but his tortured look that he cast at Prowl was enough to thaw even the ice-cold SIC's anger a bit.

"_I can't believe you can be so cruel…_" – it was a comm message only but Bumblebee closed the channel already, not waiting for an answer, not even wanting one as he felt totally alone, deserted, excluded… as he had never before felt during his time with the Autobots. His wings drooped low and listless and his frame seemed like bowing, bending in shame and pain. Only the long-ingrained sense of duty and honour kept him in Primes office to face the consequences of his actions. He knew that if he had to, he would go alone to fly to TC's rescue, but he must be here first, remain here first because he wanted to face with any accusations and not slink away like a coward. He collected himself with a visible effort facing Prowl with an angry flash in his optics.

"With all due respect Prowl… Sir… Trine matters a lot for us… for our kind." – It was the first time really that Bumblebee openly and deliberately associated himself with Seeker kind as opposed to grounders and admitting or not, Prowl's attitude had a major part in it. – "There seemed to be a chance to undermine Starscream's authority over his Trine and we took it. Thundercracker clearly expressed before the time of the meeting that he considered his Trine bonds broken."

"And of course obscure Seeker traditions supersede Autobot regulations…"

Optimus Prime chose this klik to cut in the conversation that threatened to go to unpleasant and unprofessional fields. He could make an educated guess now as to what went on amongst these three and he was no going to let it decide the matter at hand.

"Let's focus on immediate matters. Bumblebee acted unwise and he admitted it so, even though I would be interested to hear his exact reasoning at a later time. We can mete out disciplinary action later, but he is right in that Thundercracker's situation right now is our immediate concern."

"Sir, Thundercracker is officially Neutral. We do not bear responsibility for his actions and his predicament. To spend our resources and possible lives on his rescue would be preposterous."

"While it is basically true, I cannot forget the fact that we pledged his safety when he defected and he notified yourself about danger to him, as Bumblebee has told it to me too. We do bear some responsibility for not giving him the means to defend himself."

"If it takes that… I will renounce my allegiance and go to rescue him myself." – Bumblebee was quiet but determined. – "And it is not just because I love him, but because it is the right thing to do."

"Let's not take it to such extremes, Bumblebee." – Prime was not even surprised by his strong reaction. – "We will consider a rescue attempt if it has a chance to succeed."

"Sir, with my teleportation ability the chances are greater than any spying mission we attempted before. It would only require some coordination with human authorities to arrange some sea-vehicles as the Nemesis base is far from the shore and deep underwater. Even if I take extra energon it would be to far to jump, especially with a heavy load."

"Now that is worth considering. It seems that you have already thought of a plan. Elaborate please." – Prime was impressed by the young Seeker; it couldn't have been easy to work out a plan while so troubled with the situation and clearly blaming himself for what happened. If anything he would have expected it from Prowl, who apparently took an adverse stand and was not at all helpful.

After that it took only a few, fretful orns to coordinate with the US Navy to haul a big enough ship out to the proper place to serve as final warping point; to await while Ratchet came up with a solution to the harmful effect of seawater on open injuries, and to work out the exact details of the jailbreak with Jazz and Mirage, who knew the Decepticon base best; albeit it was Bumblebee himself the last 'visitor' of the new Nemesis brig cell, he hardly remembered anything about his time there. Nor did he particularly want to. But when all was done and set, and he flew towards the Con base he couldn't help but wonder. Were they still in time?

**Starscream**

Starscream was watching from the outside corridor, his back and wings pressed flat to the cold, metal wall, as if for support, when the Stunticons dragged the kicking, shouting Thundercracker into the cell.

He watched as the blue Seeker was roughly hung handcuffed from the chains set to the ceiling, ruthlessly disarmed, searched and transformation cog disabled. They laughed nastily at the Seeker, knowing what was to come. He knew it too. Had seen it many times from the other side of the bars.

He didn't move when Thundercracker shot him a look full of hate, loathing and accusations. He knew what his former wingmate was telling without a single word uttered aloud. It was all that went around in his meta, even as he showed none of it outwards.

He watched impassively and without a visible reaction when Megatron stomped in and gave him a grudging, half-pleased, half-annoyed acknowledgement for capturing the defector. Starscream didn't do it for him, not this time.

He didn't flinch – albeit that was a close thing – when the Megatron called Thundercracker a traitor and landed the first blow to his faceplates. It was followed by several and he managed to watch them all still and unmoving. The blue Seeker didn't once beg for mercy. He knew there was none to come.

He watched when Megatron left the cell later and other Decepticons came in ones and twos like vultures to the prey; to pay him back all the grievances and envy they had for all Seekers. They glanced at him uneasily for the first few breems but disregarded him afterwards when he didn't react to goading.

He watched them to beat, whip, flay and inventively torture his former wingmate for the next few orns. He knew what each of them would do to him and they didn't deviate from their nature. He knew who wouldn't come either. Nobody was interested in getting information.

He stood unmoving while the blue Seeker screamed, cursed, keened, shrieked in pain and finally fell silent, when he couldn't any more. He never said a word to his former Air Commander, Trine-leader, friend and occasional lover. Nor has he.

He watched Thundercracker when he was left alone. He was broken, blind, the once beautiful blue wings almost shredded, the sensitive cockpit glass broken to pieces, wires and cables torn out all over his chassis, energon and other fluids streaking ugly lines on the marred dark blue of his plating. But he was still alive.

He watched unmoving as the Decepticons came for orns to satisfy their sick pleasures. No flier came down to the cell, except once when Silverstorm appeared at his shoulder, one servo touching his wing fearfully with a feather-light touch, almost pleading, wings fluttering nervously behind. He didn't look into the cell and went away after a tense, silent breem, the cube of energon left on the ground by his feet. It went stale soon.

He watched silently even when a yellow shape appeared in the cell with a sudden flash of light and shot him point blank with his null-rays. He fell to the ground incapacitated, and watched on from his new viewpoint. He didn't mind it. His meta seemed… empty for the last few orns. His processor crunched up what his optics sent to it but then it all seemed to go into a limbo. It was a welcome sensation to have the same limbo outwardly too. He had a strange feeling… a premonition almost. He saw freedom again, free of responsibilities, plots, consequences and others imposing on him. His spark soared up, up, up forever into the open sky... and he didn't see the ugly cell any more. Just a golden light encompassing his field of vision…

**Bumblebee**

The last jump was the hardest, but it was executed perfectly, thanks to the excellent intelligence and precise coordinates, and he appeared in the brig cell, right beside the chained form of Thundercracker. He didn't look at him though, because there was another mech outside the cell and the possible danger outweighed the concern in his meta. His processor identified the colours as Starscream's and he acted on reflex, without a conscious thought, null-rays spewing their charge into him, felling him to the ground, all system shutting down temporarily. He remained alive though and the dull, red optics watched them on from the ground with a strangely empty expression; but Bumblebee had a few more breems before he became a threat once more. He turned to TC and tried hard not to let his rage and concern colour his face or movements seeing his awful condition. The orns that went on since his capture painted all the injuries on his meta's picture and then some. After clamping down a few nastily leaking tubes, he started spraying the injuries with the special sealant gel that Ratchet and Wheeljack concocted and it hardened immediately like translucent rubber over the torn places. Clanging footsteps became louder on the corridor as some Decepticons run towards the brig but he didn't look up from his work. The steps stopped when the seemingly empty air opened fire and the appearing Mirage threw a grenade over the corner in the hallway, while retreating to the forefront of the cells.

"No mech will come from that way any time soon." – he reported calmly, while checking Starscream's condition. – "But this one will online soon." – despite of his assurance, Mirage kept watch for both the downed Seeker and the entryway from the corridor that he had just ruined, hopefully to the point where the Decepticons wouldn't be able to come through and surprise them any time soon.

Bumblebee nodded as he finished the spraying, picked the lock on the handcuffs, got Thundercracker down from the chains and laid the barely conscious mech gently to the floor. His face was unnaturally still, held that way by a force of will, his movements guarded, precise, constrained, wings folded back with that new mod Ratchet made for him… restrained in a way like Mirage never before has seen him; but the blue optics smoldered with a barely concealed rage. Thundercracker squirmed weakly, apparently not recognizing them with the dark, broken optics; the yellow Seeker soothed him with a few, murmured words and he seemed to understand them. After calming him, Bumblebee stepped out from the cell, through the bars that had been forced open and stood over the other Seeker. He crouched and looked into the still curiously empty-looking red optics. He looked into them intently for a few kliks, looking all the world like communicating, even though no words sounded and certainly neither of them were telepaths. But some things do not need words to be conveyed… The red optics flared and dimmed again as the ice-cold blue ones continued to stare into their smoldering depths.

**Mirage**

Mirage shifted uneasily, not understanding what was going on. He turned towards the corridor, giving the two Seekers some privacy even though he didn't quite know why they would need it. He had met with quite a few Seekers in his own time and he knew how strange their whole culture was; so much more than most grounders thought. He checked if Thundercracker was all right, or at least as fine as he could be expected – which was almost out cold, barely conscious and in a lot of pain. When he looked back next, he saw Bumblebee forcing open Starscream's chest-plates… only he didn't have to use any force to do it; impossibly it looked almost like Starscream was complying with whatever they agreed on without words. A regular pulse-rifle appeared in the yellow Seeker's servos, its muzzle pointing straight into the now visible spark. The Air Commander's optics looked peaceful; free of the weight he carried for so long, the guilt, the sins, the doubts, the wrongs and all those Pit-damned mistakes…

The single shot was unnaturally loud in the dark quiet of the brig. The red optics flamed up once more before the colour slowly drained out from them and the dark helm tilted back. The bright reds and blues on the body washed out, the wings jerked once, last, before they too turned to grey. Bumblebee stood up and without a word crossed back into the cell, gathering up Thundercracker's broken body. He took out two cubes, giving the first to the tortured Seeker, then topping up his own tanks for the way out; nodding to Mirage he gathered him too close, both clenching their armor close to be watertight and he warped out, going as far up as he could. The surface was too far to reach with one jump and he got his bearings after the first one, checking that the gel was holding up on TC's injuries; seawater going into torn, live wires would be fatal in his state. But he seemed to be all right and Bumblebee warped again, until they broke the surface about a hundred meters above the sea-level; firing his thrusters he slowed their plunge back into the ocean while his sensors searched for their target. His navigational computer worked furiously, as it was put to a hard test; three mechs, falling and swaying in the wind and with the water still flowing off of them; and a moving target at the edge of his range, on a waving sea… he warped again, and Mirage felt them crash down from hardly a meter above the flat surface of the flight deck of the USS Nimitz in an prime example of pinpoint jumping, Bumblebee somehow ending up on top of them both, weak from the long warps with a heavy load that took most of his energy.

The sudden appearance and the noisy crash of several tons of alien robots shook up even the huge aircraft-carrier a bit; enough so that several alarm started to wail suddenly on the decks. The commander of the ship was of course notified about the plan as were the crew, and they had a split-second warning when they saw them appearing a few miles off, above the water; but still no Human could stay really calm when the three waterlogged robots, each the size of a big plane came to rest – mostly sprawled on each other – on the flight-deck. The crew on the bridge looked down on them in an awed wonder – it was their first glance of the mysterious alien robots that they only heard of so far. They saw the smallest mechanoid standing up first, extricating him from the ungainly heap, checking his comrades and after getting rid of some water that he got in the vents approached them. He didn't come too close, but was still able to look in the bridge windows easily; a fact that caused some consternation in the Humans inside.

"Thank you for your cooperation…" – Mirage subtly and quickly checked the rank-signs against the internet – "…Admiral. Your help was most appreciated. We will leave your ship as soon as we are in warping distance to the mainland."

On the deck the yellow mech with the wings was up too, crouching over his blue mate and picking off pieces of some kind of a clear, rubbery gel from the other's face and vents, his wings held folded up, stiffly pressed into his chassis. The mech still lying on the deck was obviously heavily damaged and although they couldn't really tell his expression, but he seemed in pain too. The yellow one talked to him on their strange, clicking-whirring-whistling language while his free servo soothingly stroked an undamaged surface on the wings. As more of the sealant came off from him, some of Thundercracker's injuries started to leak and they saw that his optics were dark.

"Umm… some energon is dripping onto your deck as I see" – Mirage turned to the bridge crew once more – "It is harmful to Humans and flammable. After a day or so it looses the latter potency and you can clear it from there with water."

"Uhh… sure… thanks for the warning" – The Admiral answered him, going outside to the gallery – "May I enquire what is it that you have engaged in? I only got an order to be here and transport you closer to the mainland. I understand if it is secret… I'm just curious."

The blue optics turned to him and Admiral Nolan was proud that he contained the nervous flinch. He was huge and the optics were disconcerting as they looked at him. But he answered politely; Mirage knew that the Navy was doing a favor to them in this mission and he was determined to humor the high-ranking human soldier.

"Thundercracker – he is the blue jet – was captured by our enemies, the Decepticons. He was tortured and nearly offlined before we could put this rescue together - with your much appreciated help, as we are quite uncomfortable in salt-water, especially when damaged."

"Does he require assistance? Not that our engineers know much about your kind but they know jets… and maybe…"

"Thank you, but Bumblebee is capable of doing field repairs and he is stable enough to get back to our base alive." – or so Mirage hoped. He was less sure than back in the cell, now that Bumblebee's movements got more frantic by the second. He was tearing off more of the sealant and it was not a good sign; Ratchet said it would keep the Seeker going until they got back to the base.

"I didn't know your kind employs torture… or that you can be tortured."

"Decepticons are vicious generally and often use torture as means of gaining information…" – Mirage hesitated as to how much he should tell to this Human but decided that this information cannot harm anyone. – "But this time there was more than that in it. Thundercracker had defected to our faction earlier and the torture was his punishment in the hands of his former commander. We, the Autobots don't employ such methods."

"Mirage, come here." – Bumblebee was not panicking yet but he was more worried than before. – "I can't seem to stop the leaks, his tubes are… almost like disintegrating."

"Frag!" – Mirage ran to his side while comming Ratchet urgently. – "_Ratchet, we have a problem._"

"_I know, Bumblebee has told me already. Get off the line_." – comes the gruff answer from the CMO.

Mirage dropped to his knees beside the two Seekers and saw immediately what Bumblebee was telling. Some parts seemed to come apart, even under the sealant gel – maybe because of it? – and fluids started to pool underneath the translucent rubbery material threatening with a violent explosion if they reached live, sparkling wires. Thundercracker's limbs twitched again and he started keening low as fresh pain flooded his sensors, even as his strength ebbed away with the loss of more of his life-fluids. Mirage pulled out another cube from his subspace pocket and poured some of it into his mouth, but it is clear from the purging, coughing motions that little of it got into his systems. Bumblebee tore away a chest plate to reveal some deeper, underlying tubes that still seemed to be intact and after a hesitant choice jabbed a needle into one of them, connecting the remains of the cube to the makeshift drip. His spark-chamber was visible now and Mirage swore violently, not caring about who heard it; it was as clawed and scratched behind the protective plates as the remains of his outer armour – telling loudly of unspeakable torture of the spark that few survives, either physically or mentally. Bumblebee looked up from his work to Mirage.

"If I don't take you I can warp to the coast now, where Ratchet can work on him. The difference is 3.2 breems." – Bumblebee didn't ask, just told Mirage the fact; he was leading the mission and it was for him to decide. The yellow Seeker was quite simply afraid to act out of line again, not when he was already on probation, not even when all his emotions were screaming at him to do it already.

"Go already." – was it really a question, Mirage wondered. Thundercracker looked to be in a state where every klik counted. But he conceded that Bumblebee had been acting strangely withdrawn and nervous even before the mission… maybe he could find out what troubled him later.

The two Seekers disappeared in a flash of light and the aircraft-carrier gave a smaller, but perceptible shudder at the lightening of the load. Mirage stood to explain to the Humans what happened. The Admiral was surprisingly most understanding and didn't mind going closer to the shore to deliver Mirage and asked sympathetic questions about them. He apparently picked up the worsening condition of the blue Seeker and actually seemed concerned – not many humans could do that at their first meeting with the towering alien robots. He showed an uncanny perceptiveness with his last question too.

"They… I mean your two comrades are involved somehow, aren't they?"

Mirage was probably the last one to know how much the others told to Humans about Cybertronian relationships, so he felt a bit of ill at ease. But he didn't want to lie.

"They are, as human saying goes, romantically involved."

The Admiral's eyes betrayed extreme curiosity and not a little shock. – "You mean they are in love?"

"Something… like that. It is complicated though…"

"Hahh… when is love easy, I wonder." – the Admiral decided that he didn't really want details on how alien robots got about love, so he stayed with a generality that should have been a safe ground. Mirage approved and agreed to both the attitude and the cliché. – "Indeed. I frequently found it so." – he ignored the chagrined look that he got in return.

**Ratchet**

Bumblebee strained himself to the utmost to make it to the coast where Ratchet was already pacing, waiting his patient. When he heard the Seeker's worried then suddenly frantically nervous comm he didn't know what was going on. The gel should have sealed Thundercracker's injuries and give them a comfortable margin of safety to transport him to the base med-bay. Apparently though it was a vain hope and the more he heard about the disintegrating tubes the darker pictures his meta was painting to him before Bumblebee warped to the shore a scant few meters away, looking like he would fall into stasis straight away from the exertion. But despite of his own weariness he managed to lay Thundercracker onto the rocky shore gently before backing off from Ratchet's way.

It was touch and go for a joor, before he could clear his processor and realized with a few choice curses what caused the trouble with the Seeker's tubes – his own energon reacted with the sealant and the saltwater in a way to scare all of them. Since it was surface reaction only, he could contain the reaction and manage it; he rationalized himself that all of these tubes would have to be replaced anyway, due to the incredible damage to the body. Ratchet had many mechs to repair after torture in his long life, but never failed to curse the ones responsible to the Pit – the wrongs that could be done to a mech's body have always sickened him. Not to mention the recovery afterwards… the Seeker had no friends on the Ark only the already troubled Bumblebee, currently pacing nervously in the brig after the stunt he pulled earlier. Prowl was quite hard on the yellow Seeker, it was commonly agreed among the crew and Ratchet privately agreed with that opinion. For a supposedly unemotional tactician he sure displayed jealousy and resentment just like any mech from the crew and in the medic's book it dangerously skirted abuse of his position.

Nevertheless it was not his place to placate the angry Prowl, who would of course just deny that he had harbored any such emotions; instead he resolved to talk to Jazz who might be able to influence him more subtly. Thundercracker would need Bumblebee around to recover, it wasn't a question, but for now he would have to just keep him under until he finished the repairs.


	10. Meeting

**10. Meeting**

**Silverstorm**

It took the Constructicons half a joor to clear the ruined corridor that lead to the brig. By that time they all knew that Bumblebee and Mirage was long gone, taking Thundercracker with them and leaving the Air Commander damaged, maybe even deactivated on the floor. The security cameras didn't have a good angle to that corner so they couldn't see exactly what the yellow Seeker did to Starscream, but the rifle shot that they heard didn't promise a lot of good. Megatron was angry and pissed off; even though he punished Starscream brutally in countless occasions, he couldn't fail to admit, at least to himself that the obnoxious Seeker was the best of his fliers. Besides he wanted to be the one who finally offlined the twit, not letting another do it. Silverstorm kept his calm until the rubble was cleared away but still he and his brother were the first ones to go through when the way became clear. They didn't care about the empty cell either, falling on their knees on the both sides of the fallen, unmoving, grey body of their Trine leader. Megatron didn't have to ask anything; the visible part of the body including the dark, ruined spark-chamber was enough of an answer. It was completely unexpected, the ruthlessness of the Autobot who came to free Thundercracker – they didn't often displayed such ferocity. But then… Seekers were strange creatures, prone to violent moods, and that Bumblebee was a Seeker now.

The brothers lifted up and took away the body and the rest of the Decepticons didn't much care; with the deactivation of the Air Commander and SIC of the army a power struggle was on, mechs vying for advancement and undermining rivals all over the place. Megatron named Soundwave as his Second but he was silent on the Air Commander's post, to see who would show promise out of the fliers. Silverstorm didn't obviously put himself forward, because he knew that he was rather young for the post, but his friendship with Soundwave that he was careful to maintain so far gave him a good position. The late Starscream was not even mentioned any more – few missed his screech and his wildly swinging moods, even in his trine. Silverstorm was silent on the matter, sharing his thoughts only with his brother.

Megatron also forgot about his former SIC and focused more on the rescued Thundercracker, whom he still wanted to see deactivated. He gave orders to everyone to kill him on sight, whenever they meet, and even contemplated another plot to capture him again. But Silverstorm surprised him with what he had to say.

"Lord Megatron, the matter might bee moot. The security footage shows that Thundercracker's damages were near fatal and we know that warping puts a strain even on an uninjured mech. He might already be deactivated. A reconnaissance mission should be enough to ascertain of that fact and it would forego any plan to kill him." – He glanced at Soundwave questioningly, silently asking his opinion and support.

"Assessment: might be correct. Laserbeak: to be sent is sensible."

"Very well, Soundwave, send in Laserbeak to gather info about it." – Megatron already looked bored and uninterested by the matter. If Soundwave and the Seeker both thought Thundercracker dead, it was possibly so; which meant that at the end of the matter he wouldn't even have a traitor to kill. It was enough for him to already start plotting a new action, some kind of a battle with the Autobots or an energon raid… in his meta, he already got past the matter of the troublesome Seekers. Soundwave sent his cassette to the Ark with specific instructions and in the meanwhile, he went about his usual duties.

**Prowl**

Ratchet's voice disrupted Prowl's train of thought as he contemplated Prime's suggestion in his office about a special mission. - "Prowl… I'd appreciate if you'd let Bumblebee out to come to med-bay."

"Why, Ratchet? His punishment doesn't end for some orns yet."

"Slaggit, Prowl, don't go all callous on him – or me - now. It is about Thundercracker."

"Is it medically necessary?"

"Well… no. If it were, I'd've ordered you to release him. But as it is now… look, I ask you to be a bit lenient…" – Prowl was surprised at Ratchet's voice and unusual demeanor. He sounded like dead tired – which was probably the case as he spent the last two joors with the Seeker's repair. If he asked such thing instead of demanding as he usually did, it must have been important as well as unusual.

"Very well. I shall take him to the med-bay now."

Prowl put aside the datapad he was working on, and proceeded to go to the brig. Bumblebee was only allowed out to do his usual shifts, mainly monitoring and inventory duty so far and nothing outside the Ark; for a Seeker, even for him, this was very heavy sanction to be locked up for any length of time. Besides, he was punishing himself enough, Prowl mused in himself; he knew that what he did was wrong and his responsible, dutiful nature gave him all the grief and contrition over his actions. Still, the SIC couldn't make himself to talk to his former lover aside from what duty demanded; their relationship ended in such a discordant note that he couldn't come to terms with it, couldn't forgive to Bumblebee for choosing the other Seeker so fast, so soon, so… unexplainably. They didn't even look at each other on the corridors, until they reached the med-bay doors. But the med-bay when they entered was empty of both Ratchet and a Seeker; and they looked at each other alarmed, not understanding. Ratchet stepped out from one of the side-bays as soon as he heard them entering and waved them in there. Unbeknownst to them a pair of red optics also saw the gesture from the air-vents and Laserbeak also shifted to the indicated place, guessing correctly that those three would have the same business as he; to see the former Decepticon Seeker.

A strange dread started to build up in Bumblebee as he moved across the med-bay; Ratchet's face was unreadable but it was alarming in itself, just like the way he held his reactions in check which was definitely not like the usual modus operandi for the medic. He stood in the doorway of the side-chamber almost like he wanted to obstruct their way… when they stepped in there, Bumblebee saw Thundercracker lying on a table, his injuries hardly even healed, obviously in a critically bad condition and he looked at the medic in a sudden mixture of anger and fear.

"What is it Ratchet…? Why is he not repaired?"

Ratchet looked back at him with a matching angry helplessness and answered quietly. – "Because I can't. His systems continued to deteriorate even while we got him back here. Everything just… disintegrated and still continues to do so. We did something really wrong with that sealant gel… and I cannot turn the process back. It works like cosmic rust now…"

"NO! It's impossible! You can fix everything, Ratchet!" – the shout was almost begging as Bumblebee moved closer to Thundercracker's still, hardly twitching form. He touched his hand but jerked away his fingers as the metal started to fall apart under the lightest contact. He couldn't believe it. After everything they did, what he achieved, the hardships they came through… it was impossible to lose TC. It was just… not fair.

"Can't you put him into a stasis pod until you come up with… something?"

"I can't move him any more… you saw how his structures fall apart now…"

He moved closer, trying to make contact without actually touching him. - "TC… can you hear me…?"

"He can't hear you now. I am sorry. It is a matter of time now…" – Ratchet looked at Bumblebee with compassion and pity – and motioned Prowl to leave the two Seekers alone for the last few breems that they had. Laserbeak stayed in the vent above them, watching until the form on the table stopped its slight twitching and the remaining dark blue colour grayed out. Since he gathered the required information faster than he expected he left quietly, not noticing the suddenly watchful blue optics that followed his way out from the vent system. Bumblebee used to utilize the same shafts as Laserbeak now and knew how dangerous they were to them; and so he left quite a few hidden sensors everywhere that lit up small LEDs underneath the ceiling plates, signaling their use. But presently he was not going to do anything with the little spy who was apparently only interested in Thundercracker's fate, just like him…

Prowl left Bumblebee in the med-bay knowing that the Seeker could not be doing anything useful for the time being; he felt just a little pity for the two of them. He was concerned already with the planned mission that was Optimus Prime's idea. If Skyfire managed to contact nearby starbases and call some wandering Autobots to Earth it would greatly enhance their chances against Megatron's forces. He knew that Magnus could not send any troops as he needed all his mechs on Cybertron; but there were always some mechs wandering the universe, ending up in odd places here and there who could be collected and reintegrated to the troops. He plotted the most efficient course for the shuttle that would take him to hopefully useful places but the real work was his to do; to convince mechs who forgot about the cause or just turned civilians would not be easy, but who would know it better than Skyfire who was just half-convinced himself to fight in the war. It would take some time of course to make the round and return, possibly decaorns or even more, but he hoped at the end it would be useful.

**Bumblebee**

In a few more orns Bumblebee returned to duty, released from his punishment; Optimus didn't hold what happened against him for long and Prowl's cold, impersonal attitude didn't change any since their breakup. The others, his friends mostly understood what he did, or at least why he did it, so he was mostly just questioned about what happened and not disapproved of. They all knew how hard it was for him with the capture, the change of body, the emotional upheavals; all that happened left its mark on him and his friends mostly hoped that he would slowly return to his usual self – or as close to it as was possible. Thundercracker on the other servo wasn't among them for all that long and only acquired a few acquaintances, so he wasn't missed – that is he wasn't missed by anyone else but a certain yellow Seeker who was doing his utmost not to show it. After he left the med-bay he didn't even talk to Ratchet, not to mention anyone else about his feelings; since then he was the very example of fulfilling his duties and not stepping outside the rules for even a single inch. Mechs noticed that he was far less cheerful than before, spent far less time in the rec-room socializing and he was involved with nobody really, not even the Aerialbots with whom he mostly had to work with. Some were concerned of course, and tried to talk to him; but he didn't open up to anyone about his feelings. In his free time he more and more went for long, lonely flights and although Silverbolt was sometimes worried about these, he couldn't find anything suspicious about the trips.

Although, Bumblebee mused one day as he flew out… he should have. But he used to be a spy, a scout, a Spec Ops mech, and he hasn't lost his abilities with the new body; it was easier to deceive his naïve Aerialbot shadows than the naturally suspicious Decepticon ones that he had to deal with before. After Silverbolt lost his lingering suspicion and stopped sending someone after him, he still didn't slacken the precautions; the secret he had to keep was more serious than anything before and he must not fail to protect it from everyone. He wanted to be alone these days a lot, but more than that he needed to be alone. Like today, when he flew out far to the south just to double back and check the airspace for any followers; and finding none he warped quickly back to a certain mountain range where he had a rendezvous. They were there already, waiting for him to arrive. He gave them the expected time of the shuttle's arrival and they synchronized their plans for the last time; the less they met the more secure they all were from any suspicion. They never became friends, not even since he understood their reasons better; he learned a lot from them that he hasn't understood about his Seeker heritage and not even Thundercracker could tell him; the brothers were raised purely on Seeker traditions, in Seeker environment on Cybertron, their coding and protocols never corrupted by Earth, by Decepticons influence or Megatron himself.

Silverstorm

They came to like these meetings with Bumblebee; the younger Seeker was inexperienced, he hardly knew anything about what he was, but eager to learn and quite a pleasant companion; not quite friendly but civil enough to work together. The plan that they set in motion was slowly but inexorably nearing to fruition and now they got the final data to work with; so far they subtly fed the news of the shuttle's mission to Frenzy and Rumble and the two cassetticon took it to Soundwave, who from then on kept an optic on it by way of Laserbeak. He also gave the news to Megatron who consequently didn't even suspect it coming from the Seekers, which was their goal. They would disseminate the latest news the same way, to have a trusted pair of optics there when they 'accidentally' encountered Skyfire and what he brought back from his recruiting round.

After going back to the Nemesis base, they proceeded to do exactly that, and consequently weren't at all surprised when an orn later they were ordered on patrol a specific area at a specific time; Soundwave cited confidential intelligence report that pointed to a potentially dangerous development in the Autobot ranks. They were to follow what Laserbeak and Buzzsaw relayed to them outside the Autobots' sensor range and to provide backup if those two needed any. They complied of course, glad that it wasn't the Conehead Trine getting the assignment; although they initially had some advantage in vying for the coveted post for the Air Commander, they constantly, in every battle proved that the three of them had not a single tactical circuit in their processors. Silverstorm on the other hand supplied Soundwave with sound analyses after each skirmish and was definitely sure that the telepath shared them with Megatron as well. Things were going their way and Silverstorm didn't want to lose the contest, even though he didn't initially want to enter it at all; but in the Decepticon army such defeats usually meant a world of bad things to the losing side which he'd rather avoided if he could.

So a few orns later they were there, cruising just over the ocean and watching the streaming video from the flying cassetticons, who stealthily spied on the Autobots gathering just outside the Ark, in the desert floor, apparently excitedly waiting for something to happen. The early warning system at one of the Jupiter moons gave them the final signal of an Autobot shuttle approaching earlier that orn and they knew him for Skyfire, returning from his mission. It was imperative to know how the Autobot force grew as it directly impacted on their strategy and chances so the two spies watched the proceedings with a precise interest.

Skyfire landed softly, the big shuttle handling Earth's gravity and weather with a practiced ease, thudding down to the dry desert floor with hardly a sound. The Autobots gathered near his cargo doors, eagerly awaiting someone to emerge – it meant that the shuttleformer was actually successful in his mission and brought back mechs to the Autobots; reinforcements to the army, new adversaries to the Decepticons. The first two shapes that appeared in the door were average built mechs that they followed with mild interest but no worry; but the next two made all watching Decepticons grow anxious to the point that they hardly saw the last one, a bigger, warrior-type who was accompanied by a minibot. But their attention was on the two biggest shaped mechs – the two fliers, curiously looking around in the unfamiliar planet.

Unlike the others, they wore no Autobot faction markings, meaning that they were Neutrals, but it didn't discount the fact that their presence here meant that the Autobot flier ranks just went up another notch. Silverstorm wondered how it all turned so; for all during the war their side was absolutely ruling the skies with all the Seekers joining Megatron, while the Autobots lacked even the rudiments of an aerial force. Yet, here on Earth they stood now almost on equal numbers; even if he counted the inexperienced Aerialbots less than their actual number, they now possibly had a full Seeker Trine with Bumblebee and the two Neutral Seekers. It promised little good for the Decepticon cause, he thought, not with the Coneheads unable to follow the simplest strategy through.

The Autobots of course were overjoyed by them, he noticed with a touch of wry humour, for them it must have been a stroke of luck to find two Neutral Seekers who were actually willing to work with them. Silverstorm watched the pair carefully, wanting to report every detail perfectly; Megatron would be angry, that was a given, but Soundwave would appreciate their input about them. One was a light, sky-blue colour with red and white highlights on the wings, with no armament that he could see; of course he didn't expect Neutrals to be armed outright, and it would change when they integrated in the ranks. The other was mainly white with some red and gold markings on the wings and on some plates; he also looked a bit smaller than his partner. Other than that they looked like regular Cybertronian tetrajets, as neither has yet scanned an Earth alt-form. Laserbeak dared to move stealthily closer to catch some of the conversations too, and soon they had some designations to go with the mechs; the lighter jet went by the name of Skyraider, while the blue one's name was Stormbringer. They took note of the other warrior-type mech who would surely be a worthy adversary on a battlefield; he went by the designation Rockcrusher. All in all the reinforcements were tipping the balance quite strongly towards the Autobots; especially with Megatron turning the crazier by the orn that many Decepticon noticed, albeit none dared to say aloud. They left the happy Autobots with a somewhat sour mood, taking back the not so good news to the Nemesis base.

**Prowl**

Prowl awaited Skyfire with his usual calm, collected demeanor, his battle computer already running scenarios of how he could integrate the new arrivals into the Autobot forces. Skyfire only gave the minimum information about them from outside the solar system, when he contacted the Ark the last time, but they know that the mission was a complete success with six new mechs joining the cause; even though the shuttle did stress that the Neutral Seekers were not yet totally decided to join up and asked for a little time to make the decision. But they all hoped that Prime and maybe Bumblebee could convince them to join eventually; a full Seeker Trine would do wonders to the grounder-heavy Autobot forces and a welcome boost to the developing but still rather young Aerialbots. All the new mechs were strangers to Earth, and he wasted no time in databursting them the necessary information about it and the Humans as soon as they landed. The Seekers would need applicable alt forms scanned and he made an appointment with the nearest Human airbase for that too, while the rest of the mechs could scan suitable alts in the nearby roads.

Even in the shuffle of the many mechs getting to know each other, he noticed that Bumblebee didn't come out to greet the new arrivals, although he knew that there would be fliers among them. He was still distant to most of his friends, Prowl noted, and absolutely avoiding him and Jazz too if he could help it. By this time Prowl did come around to see the Seeker's point of view a little bit more; not at the least because Jazz was quite insistent in explaining it to him in terms that were still not logical but he was forced to accept on his mate's word. True, his actions were not right and proper, but… as Jazz mentioned many times, love sometimes cause many mechs to do unwise things and at the same time he was doing his best, albeit inadvertently, to push Bee into the late Thundercracker's arms. Now, with the new Seekers – if they stayed – he would probably get even further from them, and Prowl was fairly sure that they have completely lost the once so much loved scout who became so different – and with that so distant too; no matter what Jazz still believed.

The Prime greeted the new arrivals formally, accepting the newly reiterated oath from those who used to be Autobots just drifted away from fighting; and inviting the Neutrals for a talk and getting to know each other better. After settling the new arrivals in, at the end of the orn a party was scheduled for the same effect with hopefully everyone attending, but first the Prime, Prowl, Jazz and Bumblebee proceeded to one of the conference rooms to have some more serious talks with the Seekers.

**Optimus Prime**

_-Flashback-_

_Optimus Prime was fairly much floored, although not the first time in his long life, but still he could count the occasions when a mech presented him with a situation and a plan that he had absolutely no idea before but were as shocking as this one. The idea that Bumblebee and Thundercracker came up with was beyond anything he heard so far, even including the various Spec Ops mechs who regularly pestered him and the rest of the Command with wild scenarios during the war. The yellow Seeker at the requested meeting openly admitted that he hasn't included, and not even intended to let in on Prowl, who would not trust any Seeker and any such illogically based action. Besides, as he pointed out, it was to be a Spec Ops mission, meaning that with Prime's approval it was enough to involve the division's mechs, with Ratchet to help them out as necessary. Jazz was of course included as the head of the division and when he heard the plan wholeheartedly approved of it, saying approvingly that Bumblebee apparently hasn't lost his spec ops abilities with the wings as many mechs did; it was certainly interesting to watch Thundercracker glowering at the TIC after that and trying to hold back the retort that he desperately wanted to make. Jazz only smirked at him while Bumblebee scowled at both, but with a small smile hidden behind; and at the end all three broke down in a fit of laughs. It nicely set off the darker parts of the plan; he understood those too as necessary, but it didn't mean that he had to like them. But the blue Seeker, who would have to bore the worst of it was the one suggesting his part, citing that everything had to look believable; meaning that he accepted it and was willing to enact and bear what was necessary. At the end he gave his approval and the long-winded plan was set into motion…_

-Present-

As they gathered in the conference room, Bumblebee quietly commed him to assure that they had no unwelcome visitor in the air-vents and Soundwave's cassettes were all accounted for – safely outside the Ark. It wouldn't pay off to go to all these lengths just to have a spy who would blurt out everything to Soundwave or Megatron. The two Neutral Seekers took the proffered places at one end of the table, while Optimus with his officers on the other, with Bumblebee in between them to the side. Still, when Optimus started, he was first turning towards Prowl with a distinctly apologetic expression.

"I am sorry Prowl, but the time has come to let you in on a secret that so far we kept from you; this meeting is the end part of a long Spec Ops mission that took a long time but succeeded so far because of the secrecy – the secrecy that we will continue to hold over all that will be said this joor. The others who were in on the plan know parts of it, but will hold the secret all the same – like Ratchet."

Prowl was visibly upset by the fact that any important mission could go on without him knowing it, but trusted the Prime to reveal the reason. His doorwings though told Jazz just how disconcerted the tactician was – and how much he would have to make up for his mate for the secret that was kept from his knowledge.

"I of course have no wish to foul up an apparently complex plan but I would appreciate the reason for the secrecy and some more details. I gather that our guests are part of it too…?"

"Yes. In fact they are the reason for it. It involves Seekers and their distinctive society that has always stood apart from usual Cybertronian behaviour even as far as not to be trusted by most mechs. It also involves some deviation from logical behaviour, which was the other reason for not including you from the beginning. Aside from your… issues with our resident Seekers, the plan has included them relying more on emotional role-play and improvisations than logical planning that it was decided that Jazz would be better managing it than you."

"We were directing the Con's attention to you as source of information in this matter, and it meant that your reactions had to be perfect, beyond any suspicion. Not to underrate your acting ability but we thought that it would be best if you reacted naturally. Which you did, much to our chagrin sometimes…" – Bumblebee spoke up without actually looking at Prowl, while one of the other Seekers' half-hid a smirk at his words, like he wanted to add his own words to what Bumblebee was telling but refraining at the last klik.

"I would really like to hear this secret now." – Prowl was getting annoyed, Prime saw, not in the least by the yellow Seeker's faintly superior attitude and he didn't delay the explanation any longer.

"Basically it was a convoluted plot to have two Decepticon Seekers defecting - but without having to worry about Megatron's anger directed at them afterwards – which as our sources divulged succeeded perfectly." – Prime wouldn't admit but he really enjoyed his normally unflappable tactician staring at him with jaw hanging, apparently fighting hard to avoid a crash of his logic circuits. Prowl looked at the two Seekers again, comparing them to what he knew about the Con forces and coming up with the names that were impossible – but logically the only ones he could think of. Prime continued to list the main points. – "Yes, I think you know who they were. Reformatted to tetrajets – and they will get new alt forms here – repainted to new colours, with new names that they chose – not that they liked that part, either of them - having a perfectly inconspicuous background story; their former selves deactivated and that fact proven to Megatron beyond suspicion. Also, regrettably we had to play roles for our Autobots too, to keep the secret and deceive the spying cassetticons."

The white-gold Seeker at the end of the table scowled again, somewhat still rankled by the complete reformat that he had to go through – he would need a long-long time to get used to his new voice, even as the altered programming made sure that he would react correctly to his new designation and the old one if anyone mentioned it. It was a fairly complex bit of coding to appropriately lock down on old memories and attitudes, so they wouldn't act on them and thereby reveal suspicious information to anyone.

**Starscream**

_- Flashback-_

_Starscream was not happy about the plan, even after agreeing to it and setting it into motion. Sure it was complex and daring, it promised them a whole new life and new chances the way he never expected to have; but still it meant that they, and especially he had to give up everything that he achieved so far, what he was and what he wanted to do. Well, not all what he wanted to do, because after it was over he would have an even better chance to kill Megatron and in the ensuing power struggle grasp the leadership if he still wanted it – of which he was not that sure lately. All that philosophy that Thundercracker expounded upon over the vorns must have infected him more than he knew and the Trine issues just shook him to his very core – that he didn't even knew still existed. Starscream liked to believe that he was more than just any simple Seeker and was beyond the core programming that made fliers act the way they did for billions of vorns – but when it came down to the last he found that the oft-sneered Trine and his mates were still far too important to him, that he couldn't just let it go. He found that after all he was willing to go to great lengths to reclaim it – going so far that even his ambitions and the Decepticon cause was forced to take a background role._

_Not that they were even fighting for that cause as all those vorns ago, he thought bitterly; privately he doubted if any mech in the Decepticon army could even reiterate the reasons, the causes of what they were fighting for - other than 'kill the soft-sparked Autobots' and 'wreak destruction'. No, it was a war for domination and power for a long time and less for ideals; and he had to admit that over the vorns the Autobots came out better in the 'just cause' department. It had something to do with the leadership; Optimus Prime, a soft-sparked fool that he was with delusions of honour, but still had more sanity than Megatron for a long time. And maybe compassion was not that overrated as he had thought either – the whole matter with his Trine-mates proved it to him with a nice smack in the faceplates._

_And so here he was, watching Thundercracker suffer in the Nemesis brig so that in time they could be free, making sure that he didn't get deactivated by an overenthusiastic Con, fretting nervously as to when he would finally see the flash of that yellow light signaling Bumblebee warping in and play his role. He was assured that Ratchet did his best to save him from most of the pain by tuning his sensor-net way down and giving him an implant that fed him painkillers all the time; but he played the tortured role so well, that even Starscream was almost convinced by the noises and reactions he made. Still, he acted his own part and was fairly relieved when Bumblebee finally showed up and played the avenging hero for the security cameras. The little hologram generator worked perfectly, Silverstorm assured him while they carried his body out; the dark, empty spark chamber was a fearful sight even for him, who knew that it was a fake; and it fooled every Decepticon, even Megatron. Which was of course the very reason for the whole charade. The Seeker brothers convinced Soundwave in their own special way and would remain there for as Jazz termed it being 'sleeping agents', while he and TC would return in a new form – the one part which he hated most in the whole thing._

_Thundercracker wasn't very happy about it either, but still he was the one to convince Starscream to go along with it; he knew just how obsessed Megatron would be with recapturing any defectors, especially someone as important to him as Starscream. There was simply no way to defect as they were and expect a long life among the Autobots; in this way at least they would be free of abuse and hunting, they could be Neutrals, allied to Autobots but retaining their freedom; and be a whole Trine again to rebuild what they lost, only healthier this time. And that was the deciding factor for Starscream – much to his own surprise._

-Present-

Starscream lifted a still too white, still too strange face, gazing at Prowl with the new, silver optics. He designed his new look, just as Thundercracker did his; overall they were comfortable with them, but both had some details that will take some time to get used to – the way back with Skyfire was hardly enough time for it. He saw the slow understanding at Prowl's face, as the tactician's battle computer crunched up the facts, the revelations, the connections - and made sense of them. It was good that they didn't have to explain a lot to the mech, he thought wryly – any detailed explanation would take orns. His smooth, light voice was a wonder still even to him, and he saw TC glance at him bemusedly too while they talked on the way out and back here; he was not going to miss the screech but he lived with it for so long that it almost became a trademark to him.

"I'm glad that you put together the whole thing so soon."

"For this you also needed inside help I think… how?" – Prowl was almost visibly putting together the complex puzzle as his sharp mind missed nothing but he wanted to put every detail to its correct place.

"Yes… this part is what you probably wouldn't have been able to accept easily; but being a Seeker is somewhat above belonging to a faction, as we said many times. Silverstorm and his brother helped because for a Seeker it was the right thing to do. They are not Autobots, not even quasi-Neutrals like we are… but they are Seekers, and that fact might be important even in the future."

There were of course still a lot of details to squabble over, but the main points had already been agreed on earlier, when the plan was put in motion; the newly (re)united Seeker Trine would be officially allies, living and working with the Autobots, integrating to the power structure but retaining some independence. Optimus was all too happy to recognize the right of the Seekers to stand apart even if it was mainly just symbolical; they were wronged in many ways before and at the beginning of the war and it sort of put things right – and Starscream appreciated the mech's ability to apologize without words and make amends when it was not required – but needed none the less. He knew that the Autobot leader didn't do it for the power that they represented, but for a cause… a cause he was if not happy but comfortable with. After all… was it not freedom of choice that they started to fight for on the other side – and gained it on this one?


	11. Living

**Warning: **mech/mech action, smut

**Note**: from here on Skyraider = ex!Starscream; Stormbringer = ex!Thundercracker and to reiterate, Bumblebee = ex!Skywarp albeit a little differently.

* * *

><p><strong>11. Living<strong>

**Bumblebee**

They got new quarters together, near the Aerialbots' hangar, with plenty of space to divide it up among them as – or if - they wanted to. After a bit of an awkward discussion, he and Stormbringer got a room for themselves, Starscream another one and the arrangement even left some space for an extra-sized wash rack for all of them to use. Nominally, or as far as the Autobots were concerned, it was Bumblebee leading the Seekers, but the three of them knew better than that; while the yellow Seeker was perfectly content to follow orders, it was basically absurd to imagine Skyraider as not giving them. His personality changed much, mellowed some but still he was a commander, accustomed to lead and he didn't even give any thought of who would be the Trine leader – it was him beyond any doubt. So they agreed that while among the Autobots, Bumblebee would act as spokesmech, as he knew the rules and customs best; but in the air Skyraider would lead. Optimus Prime suspected as much and understood the arrangement, but the rest of the Autobots would need some time and explanation of Seeker matters to get the concept, especially because they couldn't tell most of the particulars. But it was a problem for the future, he thought as they remained alone in their shared room, after so much time and events – Starscream for once got the hint and let them be, with a promise to discuss what needed to be talked over later that orn.

Neither of them wanted to wait any more, nor had they got any doubts by then about their feelings. Hardly had the door closed behind them when Bumblebee started to caress the blue-red wings, the body, the face… reacquainting himself with the shapes and wanting to feel them whole and unmarred again. For a nanoklik a tiny twinge of guilt arose in his processor with Prowl and Jazz's face attached – but he pulled himself back to the present, back into the company of the one that - and he was sure of it by then - that he loved.

"I was so worried all the while… it was a torture itself to see it all through and wait you to come back."

"You did well. Pit, even Skyraider did well. We made it!" – Stormbringer smirked slightly at the still unfamiliar name, but soon he was too busy with the yellow chassis pressing into his to think of it much longer; instead he gave to Bumblebee what he got, forgetting words for the feelings and emotions. He felt curiously free, happy and… healthy was the best word, like he forgot his doubts and unanswered questions that plagued him for vorns and something inside, a long-festering wound was finally starting to heal. Not even the closer, darker memories could mar his happiness – he was already putting those too behind.

"Storm… Storm…" – Bumblebee was tasting the name and its bearer alternately, glossa shamelessly sliding over the lighter blue wings, dipping nonchalantly into an aileron, drawing a shuddering moan from the other jet for the effort – for once taking the leading role. He decided that he liked the new name too. He locked down the protocols on the old designation and endearment too, to never utter them aloud accidentally, but the new one still had to snuggle its way into his vocalizer. Stormbringer had no such problems and in between the ecstatic moans he whispered it into his audio, along with some sweet endearments; and let his fingers roam on the yellow wings in response.

It didn't take long for them to completely get lost in the sensations that roamed their sensors. Cooling fans picked up their tempo as servos and glossas found their way to the most sensitive places, dipping into seams, pinched wires and slid along the smooth, whooshing expanse of the wings. Warming plates slid and scraped on each other, leaving colourful paint-streaks on their counterparts, denting and carving their marks into armour. Hungry mouthplates searched and found sensory nodes, eliciting loud moans, while biting denta nipped the sensitive edges of wings until small gasps and sweet keens joined them. Clouding optics shuttered in pleasure and flew open as new sensations shook their sensory nets, as their EM fields tangled and pushed into each other with deliciously torturing jolts of energy.

Gripping servos slid lower and lower until they cupped the scorching hot codpieces, drawing even deeper shudders from both frames. Glossas tangled together in a playful wrestling match and swallowed the moans and mewls in the depths of hungry mouths. Soft click revealed interfacing parts for the questing servo that wasted no time in pressing one then another fingers into the appearing hot valve. A deep moan and a clasp of the rolling walls of the valve around the fingers answered to the delicious touch, demanding more immediately. Intertwining bodies pressed together with a screech of metal and with the loosing of balance crashed onto a berth that thought better to be there for them. Wings wailed their complaint for the rough movement but their momentary displeasure was swallowed up in the onslaught of ecstatic signals they continued to lavish on each other.

Black fingers slid in and out of the valve, increasing the pace, coated in the sticky, purple lubricant that dripped onto the berth. Another click released the yellow and black spike, pressurizing immediately, joined by its blue counterpart. The lubricant-covered fingers slid out of the valve to caress the blue spike, grasping it, stroking it, the touches so soft that the blue Seeker whimpered at the teasing. He arrested the torturing servo and pulling the other mech upwards on his chassis, lifted the fingers to his mouth and licked off his own lubricant from them. The rearrangement of their bodies brought the yellow mech's spike closer to his yearning valve and he rubbed its hub around the rim, touching the sensitive, small platelets around it one by one, eliciting more deep moans.

The spike found the valve-entrance and with a desperate slowness started to push into it. The blue mech dropped his head backwards onto the berth surface and moaned wantonly as the spike far too slowly invaded him. He thrust his hips upwards to speed up the agonizing slowness and was rewarded by the spike sliding all the way home. He lifted his head again, just to have his mouth claimed again by an invading glossa. The spike started to slide out and thrust back, leaving the valve almost till the hub and rammed back with a force that teetered on the edge of pain but set off exquisitely all the sensors in the valve walls. But it never got past that line and the cries grew louder all the time when they could escape from his still busy mouth. The pounding grew in intensity, as the yellow mech rolled his hips and changed the angle, ramming back into him, until he hit the innermost sensor node in the hot, slick valve, drawing the first scream of pleasure from the blue Seeker.

With a clouded, hazy processor, he rubbed his cockpit into the one above him and the glass surfaces sliding on each other set off another set of sensors, initiated another set of protocols. The spike slowed its pistoning in the valve, sliding leisurely in and out, as though keeping up the level of ecstasy, as the sensations changed onto another area. The golden, glassy cockpits slid aside, revealing sensitive circuitry that gentle fingers caressed only for a klik before they too moved aside. The spark chambers became visible, the most sensitive and most private parts of Cybertronian bodies. The twin clicks signaled the innermost plates opening, revealing their pulsing sparks. For a nanoklik every movement and sound stopped as their optics drank in the sight of the other's spark. Then, as the spike resumed its tempo, the blue and the red orbs seemed to reach out, towards each other with their eager tendrils of coloured energies. Their chests got closer and closer, the spike pounded into the valve again with a fast and rough pace – and the sparks merged with twin screams pouring forth loudly from their vocalizers. Glorious streams of energy and emotions started to flow from one mech to the other, sharing the feeling of spiking and being filled, the joy of having the other close, inside, safe and happy…

In this wondrously ecstatic state it didn't take them long to reach their peak. Their fields flared as the hard thrusts, the exquisite sensations and the merging of sparks tipped them both over the edge, rolling into a delicious, hard overload that flooded their sensory net and all the circuitry; and filled the valve with hot transfluid to boot. It was so overwhelming that it left them both falling into a sated haze, vents wheezing out hot air, desperately trying to cool the overheated frames, bodies lying limply tangled together, the afterglow dimming in their systems.

The sparks parted slowly, like they wanted to stay merged more. The clicks of the spark-chambers closing roused them from the halfway stasis like state and still-shaking servos lifted the yellow chassis up to roll off from the blue one, collapsing beside him. Their slowly cooling bodies snuggled together, cockpits closed, arms thrown lazily over the others' chassis to connect them. Servos gently caressed the sated, for once silent, unmoving wings without words, without aim or purpose other than feel the other's closeness and love. It was not recharge, not offline or stasis, just a thoughtless, dreamily floating, exquisitely sated state that swallowed them up and they didn't want to move again – just yet.

One quiet, almost inaudible voice spoke some time later, the blue optics warmly caressing the other's face. – "I love you… Storm." – and another, rougher voice answered likewise, snuggling close to the nearer audial – "I love you too, Bee."

The blue Seeker lifted his upper body a bit to lean upon one elbow, looking at his lover, his free servo moving aimlessly over the yellow chassis, gently stroking the still warm plates. The silver optics glinted with a sudden humour as a thought struck Stormbringer.

"Nevertheless, we will have to start again our relationship – as far as most mechs know, we are strangers and it would be surprising to fall each other's berth straight away."

Bumblebee smirked back at him; the thought already visited his meta before, and he was not against a bit more of a role-play – this time promising to be a much more pleasurable affair than before.

"I can court you properly if you'd like." – he knew well that the blue Seeker was more dominant in his relationships and that his quasi-innocent suggestion would bring it out from him; especially after being spiked, which was also not his style. He wasn't far off the mark.

"If it comes to courting, it will be ME doing it." – he stated with a playful finality in his voice – but the yellow Seeker could just about sense the insulted determination underneath the light tone. He laughed out loud at the sudden flaring staccato of the wings, as they signaled a proudly dominant mating signal and an implied, half-serious threat too boot. Stormbringer pushed himself up on the berth with both servo to lean over the still laughing yellow Seeker and pin him on the berth with his body and capture his mouth with his yet again. His pride could not just dismiss the implied slight – besides he didn't mind another round of 'facing either, with him on the top this time. Nor did Bumblebee mind it as it happened, and the two Seekers didn't turn up outside their room for a full joor still.

When they did it was two extremely tired but totally happy jets stumbling into the wash-racks to get rid of all the paint marks and assorted fluids sticking to their plating; and play a bit more underneath the solvent that poured over them. At the end it was either leaving to get some energon as fast as they could or falling into a stasis-lock in the wash-racks; it was their HUDs display of angry red warnings that finally made them separate. Temporarily, they agreed silently, albeit the planned discussion with Skyraider promised to be a long and serious one. He was already far more patient with them so far than any of the Seekers would have given him credit for.

**Skyraider**

He waited impatiently, pacing in his room, musing about plans and possibilities, until the two lovebirds appeared again to the world and together they went to the rec-room, perching on the tall stools to get down to some serious talking. The place itself almost shocked him at first sight; that the mainly grounder Autobots went this far to accommodate fliers so they basically recreated a typical Vosian bar in one corner of their recreational area – in the Nemesis base there was never such a thing even though they always had more fliers. It was something that he would have never expected from them – while the others, mainly Bumblebee didn't get it why he was so surprised. He told Skyraider that after the Aerialbots first complained about the incompatibility of the generic chairs and their wings, Prowl researched the appropriate furniture for winged mechs, and with Grapple's help they shaped this part of the room to the fliers' taste. Apparently being an Autobot had some more perks beside clean energon and top notch medical services – the attitude was definitely to his liking even in this small, inconsequential thing.

After they got some energon and settled down, the three Seekers sat quietly for a few breems, so many thoughts and feelings tumbling in their processors that neither of them knew where to start. Skyraider and Stormbringer had a little time to reacquaint on the way back, but the three of them together was still a new thing for all; heavy with memories and regrets but at the same time they felt like meeting for the first time too. It was a curious little silence around the table – wings swishing almost aimlessly, optics going over the others' new colours, like committing them into memory, wordless questions and feelings rolling off them in waves of uncertainty as their fields wavered.

After getting over the initial awkwardness, Bumblebee was surprised to feel something completely new awakening in him; some kind of an intangible connection that started to form among the three of them. Skyraider too felt the Trine bonds slowly coming alive; he'd expected it with Stormbringer but he hadn't been all that sure about the yellow Seeker. But the tenuous, still weak connection involved him too; less strong, less sure than between the two of them, but unmistakably there, ready to be built on. It made a whole lot simpler what he desperately wanted to rebuild; it proved to him at the same time that whatever mech, whatever spark inhabited the Seeker's body, he was still Trine. How it was possible, neither of them was sure. Although he'd probably in time try to convince him to change that ridiculous designation – it was unbecoming for a Seeker. But not now, not yet.

"I want to do the Trine ritual as soon as we can and Bumblebee has the necessary knowledge about it. It was mainly my fault for us to drift apart and I don't want to waste this second chance that we got." – Skyraider wasn't entirely comfortable with admitting guilt but he forced himself this time to be less of an aft that he knew he had been lately. – "I want to be a real Trine leader this time."

"Well, this time around you won't have aspirations of command to cloud your optics from your Trine." – Stormbringer was totally comfortable about giving Skyraider another chance to redeem himself, but absolutely not above pointing out the points where he used to fail. – "Or an abusive leader to beat you to slag every second orn. I knew you took some of that for us and we should have stood up for you then. It was our fault too."

"I think we should just start anew and forget the past as much as we can. Your situation – our situation is sufficiently different now from the one before, so that the land-mines are not the same ones here. On the other servo, I admit that I feel the Trine bond now, which I did not expect, and so I am willing, or should I say eager to take part in the ritual." – Bumblebee knew that letting the other two dwell too long on the past mistakes would not be beneficial for them, and so he tried to keep the Seekers in the present. – "I think Storm is quite willing to expound on it for me. But it should not be that soon; again I want to stress that we are supposed to be strangers who just met. Before the ritual, we should go out flying, getting to know each other, that sort of thing."

"And courting." – Stormbringer's smirk was contagious and they all laughed out loud, Skyraider a bit put off by the sudden change of topic, but taking it in stead none the less. But he saw the sense in what Bumblebee said – they would have to go slower than he would want them to.

They couldn't talk privately for long as the rec-room started to fill up with mechs coming off shift; mostly they just watched the fliers, but when the five Aerialbots poured in there, loud, laughing and generally noisy, they knew that their relative peace was at its end. Bumblebee smirked slightly at the wry face Skyraider made and opened a comm link to him, laughing quietly shaking his wings.

"_Consider them younglings, and you can put up with them easier."_

The five fliers basically oozed around the three Seekers, behaving actually like younglings in an energon treat shop, faces eager and curious, each asking about a dozen questions at once – and Skyraider just couldn't keep on scowling at their antics. It was either snap at them or let them dote; but being rude wouldn't be a good first impression. Besides their exuberance was almost contagious.

"All right, all right. Who is who first?" – he was almost – almost! – smiling, while Stormbringer was openly doing so as the five brothers milled around them enthusiastically.

The Aerialbots introduced themselves amongst arguments, insults, snide remarks and a lot of giggling; and Bumblebee told them the Seekers' designations. The group settled down around the table, the younger fliers interspersing themselves among the three Seekers; the rest of the Autobots in the rec room stopped even pretending to do what they used to and openly enjoyed watching the colorful group of jets that seemed totally oblivious to their surroundings. Even disturbed in the middle of a serious discussion and painfully cautious about not letting their former identities to be revealed, the Seekers couldn't let the Aerialbots down, so they settled into a conversation, in which the overly curious younger jets asked their myriad questions that the Seekers tried to field without telling too much or belittling them.

"No, Slingshot, I don't have any weapons yet. Neutrals don't usually carry such."

"But we will soon give them some null-rays – they are traditional Seeker weapons, since Starscream invented them." – Bumblebee laughed and fanned his wings at Skyraider, who gave him the 'I'll get you for this' face and commed him in private: - _"Don't mock me!"_

Stormbringer smirked smugly too at the silent exchange but rescued the clueless Slingshot who knew that he missed something but didn't know what. – "We do have other weapons, like missiles, but null-rays are for melee fighting. Even as Neutrals, sometimes we had to defend the colony."

"Cool! I want to learn melee fighting too!" – not only Slingshot, but the rest of his brothers were also excited by the idea.

"_Your landmine Storm'. You field it."_ – came the comm message from Bumblebee along with a thoroughly amused sidewise twitch of the wings. It was quickly answered by the equivalent of a half-serious 'fragoff', a visibly annoyed spread of the blue pinions, but Stormbringer answered civilly enough aloud.

"I can teach you that if your commander agrees."

"Yeah!" – Air Raid was enthusiastic. Learning fighting from a Seeker? Pure heaven. And the guy even looked good… and the other one even better. - "Don't you want to teach us too?" – the question was pointed to Skyraider who drew back a bit from the overenthusiastic jet who almost draped himself on his wing, and a scowl started to form on his face.

"_Don't tell him off, please… just say no. Please?" _– Bumblebee didn't want a confrontation this fast.

"Umm… I don't teach hand to hand combat. You'd better turn to Stormbringer with it." – "_Was it polite enough?_"

"_Perfect. Where did you hide Screamer?" _– Bumblebee accompanied the cheeky comm message by an apologizing twitch.

"_Fragger."_- followed by a real smirk from Skyraider who continued aloud – "Although I heard Bumblebee too is a good fighter on the ground, what with him used to be a grounder and a small one at that."

"Indeed I can fight on the ground, but I am hoping that you'll teach me some aerial maneuvers. What with me used to be a grounder and all that…" – Bumblebee never considered his grounder origin shameful, so any Seeker trying to hit on that point was hopelessly misguided. Even Skyraider who, according to rumours could piss off even a stoic rock if he choose to do so.

"_Sky'… back off…"_ – Stormbringer was not letting it go that easily and almost growled in the private comm line. He felt protective of Bumblebee already and knew just how derogative it was what Skyraider said. Even the naïve Aerialbots were catching on the tension and looking between the two nervously. – _"Is this the way you want to start rebuilding the Trine?"_- aloud he only turned towards Fireflight who surprised him by stroking his wing in a quite suggestive manner. – "That gesture is quite… private, if you catch my meaning. Not one you should make in public and to a stranger flier."

Skyraider flicked a wing in an apologetic manner, but didn't answer – he was watching Stormbringer as he peeled off the groping servo from his wing, while the other jets laughed bemusedly at the scene.

"Ohh… I am so sorry!" – Fireflight was so much embarrassed and flustered that he almost got his wings tangled, which is no mean feat for a flier. – "I didn't know that! We do it all the time with each other…"

"Well, you are brothers. Since it is not only the five of you here any more, you should look up somewhere what manners mean." – Bumblebee was a bit drier than usual as he admonished the Aerialbots, but he did feel a twinge of jealousy. Even if he couldn't show his true feelings for Stormbringer – yet – then no other mech should paw him so. – "I know that you are all touchy-feely but you shouldn't be intruding into other's fields."

"_Are you jealous or envious?"_ – the comm was accompanied by an affectionate smile from the other side of the table, with two sets of wings shaking in tandem with silent laughs from both Seekers. – _"We can escape for a little flight before the party starts. I think that was enough of youngling jets for the first time."_ – aloud it was Skyraider who closed down the subject for the Aerialbots: - "We'd like to get out a bit, to stretch our wings. So if you don't mind… we can talk more later during the party and I am sure we will meet in the air too for practice."

They were not happy to be left out of flying but at least Silverbolt understood the Seekers' need to fly in a Trine and not with five more unruly jets around and calmed down his brothers. The Seekers left the Ark together and transforming, they took to the sky, leaving the watching mechs far behind. Their first stop was the nearby Air Base where they scanned new alt forms, but from then on, the three Raptors did their best to get lost from all eyes and optics. Although the Trine bond was still just a tenuous little connection among them, far less than it should be, they quickly found out that their coordination and cooperation was superb; far better than Skyraider expected from Bumblebee. In his mind, the yellow mech was still only an ex-grounder who just got wings by an accident and believed him to be far less than the competence that he actually showed. By the end of their first flight he was pleasantly surprised and even a bit apologetic; although he said nothing to Bumblebee, they both perceived his attitude at the beginning and so they deserved a bit of a praise.

**Stormbringer**

Stormbringer loved the opportunity to simply fly, without any attached problems and troubles. Even better, he had wingmates again to fly with, to play with, to chase and be chased; which more than doubled the joy of it. Even the weather conformed to his mood and they had clear blue skies for an arena and a few fluffy white clouds for obstacles and hiding places for the delighted hide-and-seek that they started to play like carefree sparklings. Not that Skyraider let them play for long; his goal was more serious than a little stretching of the wings, he actually wanted to test Bumblebee. It was obvious that he had his reservations about the former grounder mech, no matter how he tried to hide it; but Stormbringer, who had flown more with the yellow Seeker, was not worried. He knew that Bumblebee was a capable flier and as he learned more and more he became a passable Seeker too; and Skyraider would just have to see it with his own optics to accept.

Which he did; after half a joor of flying in every formation that he could think of and solving every scenario that he put them through he thawed out considerably and by the time they got to the homeward direction the white-gold Seeker too looked almost happy. Certainly his comm messages became far less terse and more joking, and his wings were telling a different story too than the stiff formality that he started out with. Stormbringer hoped that it meant that they could really become wingmates, now that Skyraider was not looking down on the yellow flier. Bumblebee apparently didn't mind either the testing or the less than friendly tone; if anything his temper was far calmer than any living Seeker's, which was definitely helpful when confronted with an irascible Trine leader. He was far less of a prankster than the late Skywarp, but still his basic demeanor was defined by a cheerful good humour that went well with his own frequent brooding and nicely defused Skyraider's short temper too.

Returning to the Ark they talked for long in their quarters, undisturbed by any other Autobots this time – but this time there were no weighty matters, no dilemmas to decide. Stormbringer had many tales that Seekers used to tell their sparklings; many legends that were recited under the crystal domes; and many stories about the deeds of living and dead, honoured and despised, grand and everyday Seekers. Skyraider added his often scathing remarks to them as he spoke, corrected them, bitched about the so-called heroes and picked on his Trine-mate in a good-natured way. The blue Seeker gave back as good as he got and he had an ally in it too; the two of them could just about keep up with the tempered, but still caustic wit of the white-and-gold Seeker. Bumblebee learned more about Seekerkin in a joor than all the time before; and felt the bond between them strengthen bit by bit all the time. They had such a good time there that when the time of the party came, none of them were in the mood to go out and play their roles again. But they had to – to complete the act they should not stumble at the last steps.

**Silverstorm**

Well, it was expected that Megatron wouldn't take the news calmly. They were bad news, pure and simple, and no amount of useful info about the new Autobots could sweeten this bitter energon that they had to swallow. Of course when Megatron got angry, he needed someone to take it out on; and he didn't have his Air Commander to blame any more – or to slag any more. To think that he could use his new SIC – well, nobody with a grain of common sense would think that an emotionless telepathic mech with six slagging spec ops cassetticons bonded to him to wreak havoc for revenge would be the good choice to take Starscream's place as punching bag. Not that Megatron was afraid of them, no. He just knew better than make them mad at him. That and beside the fact that Soundwave would never give him the same satisfying screams and begging decided the matter to him – and so there was Silverstorm, the formerly Neutral, young Seeker, trineless as yet, with only a noname brother to back him up; the new Air Commander of the Decepticon army, with the obvious implications that the position entailed...

The matter was serious and even though the Seeker brothers saw it coming there was precious little they could do to prepare for it. Refusing the advance was equal to failure and considered a weakness – and weakness was not tolerated in the Decepticon army. At least they had Soundwave's tentative approval; without it the position would be short-living; or rather the one filling it would be so. Dealing directly with Megatron would be a challenge even with all the psychological knowledge and mind games of his own that Silverstorm excelled in. He was good on Cybertron, to set offending mechs against each other without being involved, to garner favor from commanding officers without becoming their bitch, to know everything without being obvious as to how he gathered it. Now it was the ultimate test; to survive a tyrant with every described mental disorder in the book. Maybe he should start exchanging notes with Skyraider.

Silverstorm sighed as he left the Nemesis repair-bay after the first of probably many trips, carefully stretching the new weld marks. Fortunately there weren't many, Megatron was only giving him a taste of what he was capable of, a warning almost. He would have to do much better next time; logical arguments might work on Soundwave but the mech won't support him openly when Megatron is out for some spilt energon. Still, he had to give the warlord his chance, to see for himself that it was not just Starscream's irritating mentality that precluded Megatron from accepting logical reasoning. Too bad that he failed the chance. Whipping Star appeared by his side soundlessly and asked with a wing twitch; nodding, they headed towards the surface. There was nothing some flying couldn't smooth over.


	12. Celebrating

**Note**: from Chapter 10 onwards Skyraider = ex!Starscream; Stormbringer = ex!Thundercracker and to reiterate, Bumblebee = ex!Skywarp albeit a little differently.

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><p><strong>12. Celebrating<strong>

**Stormbringer**

"You are not serious."

"I most certainly am."

"You are an idiot."

"I'm most certainly not."

"You are glitched."

"But Scr… Raider!"

"You are an afthead too."

"Look, can't you be a bit more understanding?"

"No, I can't. You want to court the mech that you either know only for a few orns – or as long as a few millennia -, that you are already lovers with back and forth, and all because of an interfacing joke…?"

"Yeah… so what?"

Skyraider has always been great with incredulous 'youaretotallycrazy' looks. He used to give them to Megatron, so he got plenty of practice. He just gave a king-sized one to Stormbringer for his announcement of wanting to court Bumblebee seriously and properly; who in return produced his best 'innocentlynotunderstanding' but pleading nonetheless gaze. He didn't have that much practice in those, but Skywarp used to make them to him after every prank, so… so he reproduced it with passable success. Not exactly puppy-eyes as the humans would call it, but fairly close. Skyraider expectably was not in the very least softened by it.

"Since when do you care about courting? You've been plenty comfortable with Skywarp, being just lovers for eons."

"Since we chose to live among the sappy Autobots who dare to formalize their relationships and even bond with those whom they love."

"So what? It means nothing. Okay, not much. We are still Seekers not Autobots."

"But I want to do it in a Seeker way, you see? I want to do it properly, here we can do it properly, and for this your agreement and cooperation is necessary. I need your help. Trine leader is not just about ordering us around in the sky, you remember? So unless you disagree, I expect you to answer seriously."

"You are serious..."

"Glad you noticed it."

"Will he understand it at all? He isn't really a Seeker, not yet anyway."

"He will… or he should. Remember the tales that we told him? He should get the hints if he listened. And he is a passable Seeker by now, don't degrade him."

"Okay… if you insist." – A proper Seeker courtship should be fun to watch, for them and probably for the Autobots as well; especially considering that they would probably misunderstood most of it. They discussed it for a few breems, as it required some preparation, but mostly it would have to wait; being on Earth meant finding some substitutions for certain Vosian concepts. But the first, crucial step they could do after the party…

**Skyraider**

When they set foot into the place, the Ark rec-room was already full, almost to capacity with mechs and humans, all around the tables and couches. Almost all Autobots were present, including the new ones and the Neutrals, milling around with great gusto, listening to Blaster's mixture of Earth and Cybertronian music and gathering around tables in friendly groups. The mood was pleasant, the Bots present safely got over Prime's welcoming speech which he tried to make shorter than he'd've liked to and it was well received for that fact. The high grade was brought out - even the Twins' secret brew that the officers present tried hard not to notice for once - and everyone started imbibe some and feel good. It helped a lot for some mechs' frames of minds that stuck together without meaning to. After all, for Skyraider it was either the Aerialbots in giggling mode or the other two Seekers – and Skyfire. From those options he rather chose his Trine even though it meant a probably uncomfortable talk later on with the already brooding shuttle who downed the high grade cubes in an alarming rate. Stormbringer was trying to get Bumblebee drunk, as per the plan, but failing royally – the yellow Seeker was apparently familiar with the Twins' brew and flat out refused to drink any amount from it. It made him suspicious too. But the party was hardly in the dancing – and quite far from the falling under the tables - stage when a loud voice proclaimed from the stage, garnering everyone's attention.

"Gentlemechs, a bit of an attention please!" – Jazz's voice was shoving only a tad bit of the high-grade that he consumed; only enough to lose his accent and speak in a surprisingly clear voice. – "We have a bit of a surprise for ya all, courtesy of Hound and Sunstreaker." – a low rumble started to awaken at the unlikely pairing, but quieted down as he continued – "Don't be alarmed by the darkness soon, it is intended; and be quiet if you don't wanna miss the experience!"

The big room plunged to darkness when Jazz finished, only the assorted colours of the optics cast a bit of light to their respective tables. A slow, ponderous melody started to play quietly and picked up the level slowly. Mechs started to recognize the piece with a start; it was played only on rare occasions these days, being an unofficial hymn of Cybertron, the best-known piece of the most famous Iaconian composer, Melody. Its tones quieted down the room and when the first sign of a holographic vision appeared all around them, it was received with a collective sigh. The Matrix Temple's majestic columns started to solidify in their full glory, their immense whiteness surrounding the magnificent dome that fully took up one side of the rec-room. The Chamber of the Ancients joined it on the other side, its high, spiraling towers glistening in the long lost star's rays. The huge and ornate Senate building rose up next from the darkness, surrounded by dozens of official buildings that made up the government quarter of Iacon. As the notes of the piece fell, the structures of the glittering white city appeared all around them, evoking memories in most Bots present; most of them were Iaconian but even those who were not, knew the city well. As the music crescendoed the cityscape flashed once more in the long-gone sun – and was gone with the silence.

Driving beat supplanted the majesty of the previous piece, providing a counterpoint to the previous vision, swiftly rising in volume in the darkness that fell after the white city disappeared. Invisible hands drew underground darkness on the walls, with flickering, pinkish flames, illuminating slightly, sickly the tunnels of the energon mines, deep underground. The drums' throb strengthened angrily as the miners became fighters, the beat became a noise of pedes on metal around the Great Arena, its forbidding visage lit by purplish flames. The strobing lights flashed on raised weapons and spilt energon as the music became crudely sophisticated, barbaric but enticing, like the last sparkpulses echoing in a broken chamber. Huge machines growled and moved among the oil-stained factories, the stifling slums surrounding them looked ruthless in their shadows. Kaon showed its darkest, most dangerous glory when the massive, ancient fortress appeared, dominating the flame-coloured skyline – the Lord Protector's palace, Megatron's former fortress has never even been mentioned or shown before on the Ark. It was a memento of an era when civil war was not even a possibility, when factions were only political power play in the Senate – and when the two great leaders were still brothers.

A spark-shaking darkness covered up the disturbing images, and sighing mechs swallowed a fortifying gulp of the high-grade they held, before the show continued its sweeping remembrance over the Cybertronian landscape that was long gone from all but their memories. The clear notes of a musical orchestra brought up much lighter holograms all around; the soaring but still precise arches and spires of Praxus. Multicolored crystals glittered in the lights as the song swirled around them to show off the marvels of the Helix Gardens. A certain Lamborghini grasped a grey servo, stroking a quivering doorwing, but Bluestreak seemed okay with the vision; excited even, but not afraid to remember for once. As the music changed and its rhythm caressed the temples of the various Gods that accompanied Primus in making their race, the Bots present all thought a bit back to their beliefs that were all but forgotten in the cruel war…

But the darkness swallowed the temples just as it did the mines before. The high notes changed and twisted as young composers dared to play with tonalities and rhythm, creating experimental music – that found its place among the other arts that littered the spacious landscape that appeared next. Art galleries, opera-houses, theatres and sculpture gardens crowded the space around them; famous paintings and sculptures swam across the music that got louder and louder, sometimes caressing their audios, sometimes demanding their attention. Crystal City glittered in the sunlight like a vain courtesan writhing on a crystal-encrusted berth, its competing and complementing buildings are just as much pieces of art as the artifacts housed in them. In one bold, defiant gesture the Science Academy's clean lines stood across the ivory towers of Art, surrounded by the bustle of young, eager minds out to understand the nature of the world, the ultimate questions and everything.

Purplish-grey smoke rose and covered art and reason alike. Silence fell and choked off the playful twisting of the musical notes. The ground bubbled up and melted around them in a threat of deactivation, past and darker ages. The smelting pools of Polyhex crackled in tandem with the subtle notes of creeping, dark music that weaved metallic nets around them. Huge, crude, blocky structures told of frightening tales of a past that was better be gone – and a present that rose high and proud among them, casting its long shadow on the empty, desolate ground. Darkmount stood proud, forbidding, threatening and bristling with malice, intent on conquering the planet. Dissonant, competing notes twisted around its grey gun-turrets, dropped on its forbidding sides, died in the acid lakes that rivaled in fumes with the forever angry smelting pools. Not even the sun's light could penetrate the noxious fumes that swirled over the bleak and unforgiving land.

From the depths of the twisted music and complete darkness a single note rose out. It gained strength and resonances, strange voices and visions in the fog that appeared, the mist that was so commonplace on their new home, but so mysterious in the old one. Not possessing open waters Cybertron's landscapes never hid in real, honest, earthly fogs, only in the most sacred, most feared and mysterious island of Kalis, where the monks' chanting echoed disconcertingly in the strange phenomena. The fabled Oracle hid in the midst of the strange sights and visions, and around it the storytellers, visionaries, prophets and clairvoyants gathered to form the least known but most disturbing city on the planet. Mechs visiting it were not even sure what the city was like beyond its twisting pinkish fog, the buildings that seemed to move and transform like its inhabitants, and the ground that seemed inconsequential and haphazard.

The darkness that took away the fog was welcomed again by mechs hurriedly gulping down some more high grade, chattering a bit before the next vision. The holograms captured everyone's imagination, even those who didn't know some particular city, musical piece or spectacle; their friends at the tables kept up a commentary for them, just like Optimus Prime's deep voice did for the few humans who were invited and had their own gathering place by one wall. Humans have always been surprised the importance of pink and purple colours that Cybertronians held so important; for humans these were girlish, childish, while for the mechs it was the color of their energon blood, signifying life, and in its darker, purple version death. The mechs present mostly knew which major city should be the next one, unless the creators went for more than the largest and most important ones; and many glanced towards the fliers' small groups. Were the party even a few dozen orns ago, no mech would be there to await the next scene with a knowledge; the Aerialbots have never been to the Seeker city.

The darkness around them was filled with the trilling notes of Skylark's famous piece; written before the wars, it elicited the golden era of Vos that few has seen from those present. The natural-law defying sight of the famous Falling Gardens blossomed from the darkness, among its myriad crystals some of the oldest ones on the planet twinkled in the starlight. Tall, slender towers, pylons and spires rose from the unseen ground, connected with graceful bridges, dotted liberally with balconies and huge, glittering windows; the crystal domes among them swarmed with Seeker-clans of every color and designation. The majesty of the Aerie dominated the cityscape like a huge but graceful floating castle, casting its shadow on the unseen ground far below. The music changed suddenly as the Seekers disappeared from the view; its playful, free tones became more and more restricted, darker and simpler; the rousing beat of the military march showed the jets fly high in formation, in rows and rows of menacing war machines… The stark, utilitarian shape of the Military Academy sat heavily on the previously unseen ground, planned and built by grounders, a sore sight on the face of the flighty, free and independent city.

The music crescendoed as darkness claimed the room yet again; in the black velvet of space the planet itself appeared in the middle; its metallic surfaces glittering in the starlight, hugged by the moons, a home that was all but lost in its former glory. Cubes rose in an almost earth-like gesture of a toast, to honour the planet few of them hoped to see again, and even fewer hoped to be restored to its former glory. The Seekers sat in silence, their cubes emptied, their emotions still shaken from the holograms they just saw. In Skyraider's mind another picture rose unbidden – the rubble and ruins of Vos where he buried his clan, his creators – and his hopes of peace, science and optimism. He felt the Trine-bond whispering in the back of his mind, soothing, calming with its presence, heard Bumblebee whisper quietly to him: - "While there is life, there is hope – we here should know it better than most." – they raised another cube of high-grade to that, for once not caring what its effects would be later.

Jazz and Blaster also felt that many a bot have fallen into a depressed mood by the last vision and cranked up the music that they changed to Earth tunes, to cheer up the party. Mechs all around seemed to come out of their memories and albeit their happier mood was a bit forced at first, the high-grade helped and soon the party went back to its former, better mood. Mechs milled around the creators of the holograms, congratulating to the artistic authenticity of them and complimenting the choice of the accompanying musical pieces, before settling down for friendly discussions or moving to the dance-floor.

**Skyfire**

Skyfire knew of course. How not, when he carried the Seekers all the way out and back. So he knew just who the unfamiliar-looking jet who sat beside him actually was. What to do with the knowledge… now he was not at all sure about that part. He tried to initiate a conversation three times so far, just to be met with terse, noncommittal, typically Starscream-like answers that totally discouraged him to try any more. Even worse, he felt them to be personal, as Skyraider tried and succeeded to be polite with others who came to their table to exchange a few words with the Autobots' new Seekers.

The holograms gave a good topic for talks, as very few of the Autobots have ever visited Vos – although most had strong opinions about it. They weren't exactly rude, not those who actually choose to come over and talk about it, but they were inevitably mislead, ignorant and more than a bit prejudiced. In that at least Skyfire could help to dispel some of the wrong impressions by being a known and trusted face to them and back up what Skyraider was telling. After a while he warmed up a bit to the shuttle – far from being able to talk about their personal history but at least not ignoring him. He decided to consider it a success for the time being; one that he could use to build on with time.

"The Aerie wasn't just the seat of the ruling family. It was much more; a temple, ceremonial halls, collected relics…"

"I heard those relics included the empty shells of defeated enemies too, nailed onto the walls?" – Sideswipe thought it barbaric but didn't say it aloud.

"That is correct. Of course only the greatest enemies could get there on the walls. Maybe nowadays with such low standards of fighting you too would make it there…" – Skyraider's never passed up the opportunity to snark a bit.

"I bet you've never heard of the Jet Judo. Seekers don't like it as a rule." – Sideswipe was boasting and didn't even try to hide; the Seekers' interface drive was famous and he was seriously considering pursuing the new flier. He did notice the big shuttle's interest too in the same mech and suddenly a number of new prank-ideas blossomed in his meta, involving wings and such.

The three Seekers tried very hard not to laugh aloud; only some of the mirth found its way into Skyraider's voice when he answered. – "I have heard of it. Maybe one day we can practice?"

"Again…?" – Stormbringer's groan into his cube went unheard amidst the loud music, only Bumblebee heard and smirked at it. They got fairly drunk since the hologram-show was over, as the blue Seeker brought many cubes to him, swearing that they were not from the twins' brand, only regular high-grade. He neglected to mention the special additive that he put into Bumblebee's cube – it wasn't as he intended any harm for him. Just a long, deep recharge. Eventually.

"Any time, you want to! Sunny and me are always looking forward to perfecting our technique!"

"You are that eager to have your skidplates handed to you?" – Skyfire wasn't above a bit of a goading when he noticed the red warrior's interest in Skyraider.

"You want to practice too? Size won't save you if we get on your back!"

"We can always check how much you like space. Or orbital reentry outside a shuttle."

"Ouch." – Bumblebee kinda imagined the slowly melting twins on the back of the white shuttle… it wasn't a nice picture.

"Hey, we talked about practice, not deactivation!" – Sideswipe was losing it; amongst the four fliers he was distinctly outnumbered, even though Bumblebee didn't join in as they ruthlessly continued to pick on the frontliner; the Seekers giving him back decades of Jet Judo in words, while Skyfire was distinctly jealous and not playing nice either. Stormbringer slowly doubled over with laughter.

"Ohh, we won't deactivate you, promise!"

"Yeah, I don't want red and yellow patches melted on my armor."

"We'll be nice and easy on you."

"Totally. Poor little, breakable grounders."

"Hnh… we'll see who's gonna have a big mouth after some Jet Judo. Or else…" – the red twin saw it better to beat a hasty retreat; the fliers were in a rare mood apparently, unified against him for whatever reason, and Sunstreaker didn't want to leave Bluestreak to help him. Swearing revenge inside, he left the Seekers' table, already calculating the next round of pranks that he was going to visit on them. He fumed a bit at the laughter wafting after him from the jets, but a few cubes of high-grade restored his mood.

**Bumblebee**

The next day-cycle after the party, he came online to fervent swearing from the outside compounding the throbbing processor-ache, courtesy of the overcharge that at some point probably did include the feared brew from the Twins, because he remembered only snatches after Sideswipe left the table. He very much hoped that nothing embarrassing happened, although probably not many mechs were sober enough to notice – or remember - if it did. Back to the present… who was swearing still? Bumblebee left the still recharging Stormbringer on the berth and opened the door of their room, intending to go out and check on Skyraider, having recognized his voice as the one cursing profoundly. But he stopped at the threshold of the small anteroom, the scene in front of him wrenching a loud guffaw from him, which he tried to choke back, to save the Seeker's easily wounded pride.

He was on all fours basically, both pedes and servos apparently glued to the floor somehow and unable to free himself from the embarrassing pose. It was interesting though, as he looked like he'd been in their room before stepping into the glue… but he must be mistaken. Skyraider definitely wasn't with them during the night… was he? Scary thoughts. Anyway, after a late night and overcharging it must have been particularly annoying to get caught in what was obviously a prank and Bumblebee had a pretty good idea just whose it was.

Bumblebee still tried not to laugh as he looked over Skyraider. - "What happened?"

"Some kind of a slagging contact glue. Covered the whole slagging floor, transparent, and hardened the nanoklik I stepped into it. When it caught my heels, I fell and my servos got stuck in it too. Damn! It is all hardened now, so get your aft here and help me out!"

It took them breems – and a whole plethora of colorful swearing in many languages - to free his limbs from the hardened and quite effective glue and warp him to the med-bay; the material that choked up his heel-turbines was such that they couldn't clean it out. Even Ratchet had to try several solvents to find the one that dissolved the glue and from then on it took even more time to clean all the pieces. He was still there sitting on a med-berth, snarking to Ratchet, when Bumblebee had to leave for his shift, and the yellow jet didn't notice the smirk that Skyraider threw after him, when he left.

"A credit for your thoughts…?" – Ratchet did notice the smirk and looking after the departing jet, he just caught the sight and after a klik of bemusement, joined to the smirking. He wasn't sure, but it seemed like… hehh, worth looking it up later.

"Ohh… nothing, nothing. I just remembered something but it doesn't concern you."

Bumblebee on the other hand noticed only some time later that something was up; his mere presence was not garnering so much attention since his reformat. He had to take inventory of several storage rooms and everyone who passed him seemed to find something interesting that made them stop and… well, not exactly laugh at him, rather giving him some pretty surprised looks. But no matter how he checked his appearance, he found nothing out of ordinary and no sign of last night's interfacing either fortunately. It must have been another prank, he thought, if the glue was Sideswipe that means he was in their quarters… frag. By the time his shift ended, he was self-conscious and embarrassed, sure to be a victim of another prank, just not knowing how or what. But still he had to give the fragging report to Prowl, meaning to go through the rec-room and everyone who was there would see it… whatever it was. It was highly uncomfortable, and made his wings droop as he walked, trying to be smaller, but of course failing in it. By the time he got through half the room, he felt every optics present on his back, itching, irritating, causing him to want to transform and fly…

"Hey Bee! Nice tattoos, ya got! What for?" – trust Jazz to break the ice.

He turned towards the TIC, acutely aware of the scrutiny from the others still, dreading the answer in advance. – "What do you mean tattoos?"

"Were they a surprise? Aww, that's so cute!" – he was laughing good-naturedly and others joined to him as well, the minibots, Smokescreen, Tracks… - "Doncha worry, Bee, it is nothing embarrassing. Kinda surprising tho'."

"What is it then? And where?" – it must be on the back of his wings he realized, that's why he hadn't noticed it but everyone else did.

Jazz chose the easiest way to show him, by doing a capture and sending him the picture file. It was… he had to admit himself that he kinda liked the sparkling, metallic blue glyphs that adorned the edge of his wings. They looked somewhat familiar, but certainly not Standard Cybertronian; the flowing lines of the glyphs brought up a memory from last night; yes, the Aerie had similar writing on some of the walls. Must be Vosian then… but in that case it cannot be a prank. There was no way the Twins could write in the Seeker language… was there? Besides it didn't have the feel of a prank. More like… he suddenly felt warmth suffusing his system as another memory kicked in, Stormbringer, telling the customs of the Seekers including the courting ones. Huhh, he was serious then, that night…?

"I must admit I don't know what they mean. Can you enlighten us?" – Jazz was at home in several Cybertronian languages and dialects, but mostly in the spoken versions. He knew very little Vosian, and what he knew didn't help him any with these glyphs.

"No, it is unfamiliar to me. Must be Old High Vos, you remember yesterday, the Aerie? That one had similar glyphs on it."

"Yeah… and I don't think Teletraan knows it either. You should ask the new Seekers."

"Well… who else do you think could have done it…?"

"Uhh-huhh… I see!" – Jazz was smirking at the allusion. – "Hey, maybe Prowler knows some! Praxus had the most connections with Vos before the war."

"Maybe." – he didn't really want to ask Prowl, especially not if his suspicion was correct, but he had to take the report to him anyway, and it would get Jazz off his back – no pun intended – as well, even if he made no promise to ask. – "I'm going to him anyway with this."

He gave the datapad over and made out of Prowl's office as fast as he could, glad that the officer didn't look up when he turned away from him to walk out. Their relationship was still seriously strained; while Jazz seemed to get over it with his customary good-humored ease, the tactician took their breakup more to his spark. Not that he tried to talk about it, every time they had to meet in the line of duty, he was totally cold, unemotional, professional. Maybe even more so than it was necessary, Bumblebee thought, he was still quite sure that Prowl was prejudiced against TC, and lately transferring some of that feeling to him. He didn't want to talk about it either; after what Prowl had said, he was sure there was nothing to discuss that could make the mood between them any better.

So, asking him about a possibly Seeker courting thing was quite out of question. He sat down to a terminal in the rec room, hoping that Teletraan had something even if it was unlikely. To his surprise, after some searching he found that the ship's AI actually had knowledge of the glyphs – with some dread, he realized that Skyfire apparently uploaded declassified information from the late Skywarp's memory-banks, which included Old High Vosian too. It was acutely uncomfortable, to browse the memories of a mech who occupied his frame before… even though the data was impersonal, he knew its origin and it felt faintly like grave-robbing. But uneasy as he was the search found the glyphs that he was looking for, and Teletraan translated them into modern Cybertronian, informing him it to be a quote from a poem. The left wing's edge was decorated with one line and the right wing continued it with the second.

"_Dance with lightning, fly with thunder_

_Play with storm winds, sing with sunshine"_

Well, that was conclusive. Bumblebee sat at the terminal, thinking little, happy thoughts, a ghost of a smile playing on his face, as he remembered the rest of the tale about Seeker courtship. It will be definitely interesting. Not to mention enjoyable. On his way back, he held his wings high and proud, displaying the glyphs gleefully to everyone. Given the vivacious grapevine of the Ark, the exact meaning of it would soon spread – he made sure not to delete his search from the monitor, and he was quite sure that someone would check it as soon as he left.


	13. Courting

**Note**: from Chapter 10 onwards Skyraider = ex!Starscream; Stormbringer = ex!Thundercracker and to reiterate, Bumblebee = ex!Skywarp albeit a little differently.

"normal speech"

"_comm"_

_::bond::_

* * *

><p><strong>Trine<strong>

**Skyraider**

Bumblebee was right, hardly a joor has passed until practically all mechs on the Ark found out about the tattoo and its meaning. Immediately it started a wild guessing game with the attendant betting pool on what it meant, who did it and what was going to happen next. At the end of the second shift an unusually large crowd collected in the rec room, almost like another party was in the making with mechs discussing what happened and argued about it pro and contra. Bumblebee has made himself scarce since his last appearance, but the two new Seekers were there, perching calmly by a tall table, answering to the myriad questions in general – but refusing to divulge exactly who and how managed to paint the glyphs on Bumblebee's wings.

"Yes, it is a courting display; or rather the intent to court. It was traditional in Vos, although since the war started, it rarely let us indulge in such games."

"So it means that some mech – one of you? – wants to court Bumblebee and this is asking him about it?"

"Yes. It requires a response from the intended."

"What kind of an answer?"

"It will be public. Or it should be. You'll see soon." – The Seekers were quite calm, neither of them betraying any emotions, be it nervousness or anticipation, which threw the watching mechs a bit off – were they involved or not? The milling crowd settled down a bit, most of the mechs more excited than the Seekers seemed to be. Bumblebee was a well liked figure by all of the crew and the troubled, tragic events that happened to him lately made him even more sympathetic in most mechs' optics, evoking protectiveness even in many of them. For the others, less interested in the yellow Seeker, the exotic nature of the courtship was something that made them take notice, dispelled the usual boredom and the bleakness of the war and excited most of the crew.

As the mechs settled down by the tables to discuss the events and await something that the Seekers hinted at – suddenly Bumblebee appeared in the rec-room doorway. Although he has never been much for calling attention to himself, this time he didn't mind it; with wings held high and proud he walked into the middle of the big room and deliberately fluttered his wings in a very special way, looking at the Seekers, in particular Stormbringer. The room hushed as the mechs present watched the blue Seeker rise and flare his wings in answer – then they blinked in surprise as Bumblebee turned on his heels and was out of the room in a nanoklik, sprinting through the corridors at top speed. Stormbringer wasted no time either and he was after the enticing yellow wings, chasing him all out. Before the mechs in the room could react or follow them, the big viewscreen was turned on and a snickering Jazz from the monitor room patched in the security cameras' feed, showing the chase all around the Ark many corridors. Monitor duty rarely gave so much fun like this time and he made sure that everyone was enjoying it.

It was fortunate that most of the crew was in the rec-room so the corridors were mainly empty, as clearly the running Seekers didn't notice much else besides each other. Stormbringer was slowly gaining on Bumblebee who was glancing behind often and quite obviously wasn't running with full speed, scampering rather, letting the other Seeker catch up with him. The audience in the rec-room cheered them on, half the yellow Seeker, the other half the blue one to catch him; but everyone guessed that the intended result was not far off. They were near the hangars when Bumblebee slowed down even more, cut into the smaller one, the other Seeker hot on his heels - and in the rec-room Skyraider, watching the screen quickly commed to Jazz:

_"I think you'd better cut the feed when Storm' catches him."_

_"Why? What's gonna happen?"_ - not that he didn't have a fairly good guess, but Jazz wanted to hear it before taking away the show from the crew.

_"The signal Bumblebee gave with his wings was a call for mating. The chase will end with interfacing whether there is anyone around or not. But I think it is better not streaming it live to the full Ark crew."_

_"Ahhh, I see. So the coverage ends about… now." _- even the comm conveyed the laughing of Jazz's voice; he in front of the security monitors would see everything that was going to happen anyway.

The rec room audience was collectively disappointed when the live feed was suddenly cut, just as the blue Seeker jumped the yellow one and pinned him to the hangar floor. The twins in particular were loudly demanding the program back and Jazz suddenly had several excited and frustrated comm messages demanding to put the events back. He answered the same to everyone – _"Ask Skyraider. If you dare."_

Some did ask Skyraider though and the fliers' table was popular again with mechs coming over and enquiring about Seeker customs – he thought that this whole courting idea was after all one of the better ones that Stormbringer came up with lately; it introduced them to the Ark crew nicely and in a way that made them interesting, positive and dispelled many of the existing prejudices. Or at least toned them down – he noticed that the minibots were still keeping their distance from them, even though they watched the events unfolding the same way as the other mechs. But after all, minibots had their private grievances against Seekers and they were stubborn enough not to let those go just because of some interesting display.

**Silverstorm**

The Decepticon base common room was almost deserted. Only four mechs sat at the tables, the two Seekers refueling quietly at one and two casetticons, Rumble and Frenzy talked at another, huddling close to each other. Lately, most mechs spent their free times in their quarters, grabbing their rations quickly and retreating from the open places without lingering around. The corridors were also mostly empty with flickering lights and dampening walls showing the neglected repairs, the lack of mechpower to do the necessary maintenance of the huge base. They lost a lot of battles lately, a lot of soldiers, deactivated one by one, and consequently energon was scarce, the rations small and they hardly even remembered when they last saw any high-grade. Those with secret stashes guarded them carefully and used it sparingly; their bad luck didn't seem like turning any time soon.

But all the foul mood, all the misfortune and lost comrades was not the reason for the common room to be so deserted; they used to have bad periods before but always came through them. No, there was a more unavoidable, more solid reason to hide in their rooms; lately all they saw of Megatron was in what earlier amounted to his worst mood – but which quickly became his everyday one. These days there was no chance of escaping his ire if one was unfortunate enough to meet up with him; the last groon he sent more mechs to repair bay than most battles. For quite some time the whispered rumours told that he was off his hinges, but it wasn't taken seriously; sure, he was always prone to murderous fits, but that was something they all knew and calculated with. But lately - and some even dared to say that it was since Starscream's trine was deactivated – he has almost never been seen as normal. Brooding alone on his throne and shooting the unfortunate mechs ho had to present reports of inevitably bad news; prowling the base corridors, growling like a beast and beating the mechs senseless whom he came across; or cooking up harebrained schemes that left even lesser intellects than Starscream speechless - and consequently loosing, loosing and loosing… the cycle they fell into seemed bottomless.

The Seekers left the empty room and withdrew to their quarters, like everyone else. Silverstorm knew that for them it was useless to hide; while others could avoid the mad warlord by not going to public places, the technique could hardly work for the Air Commander. He huffed through his vents, that empty title was more trouble than glory, and definitely among the most dangerous jobs in the Decepticon army. He thought he knew from Starscream what to expect from Megatron, but it went so much further; the mech was so much deeper down in the Pit of madness than they'd thought. Silverstorm sat down at his terminal, to work on their leader's latest magnificent plan, so that they might salvage something out of it; lately with the tacit approval of Soundwave, he started enclosing a little secret subplot into Megatron's grand schemes that at least let them grab a few cubes of energon so they would not starve.

The door chime surprised them both. No mech visited them because they didn't want to associate themselves with Starscream's successor and the newest scapegoat cum punching bag. When it was Megatron, he didn't bother with signaling his presence – he either opened the door with his cannon or with his override code, depending on his mood.

"Enter." – Whipping Star moved to the side, servo unobtrusively on his weapons, not quite hiding but backing up his brother who calmly stood facing the door.

In the opening Soundwave appeared, for once without any of his cassettes. He stepped into the room quietly and took the offered chair, glancing at the other Seeker who moved from his former position to his brother's left shoulder, the gun disappearing as unobtrusively as he held it before.

"What can I do for you?"

Soundwave didn't mince words. He could be open with Silverstorm, far more than he ever managed with Starscream and he intended to utilize that fact.

"Query: opinion of overall situation. Assurance: discussion is private."

They sort of came to an understanding with Soundwave these last few groons. They both wanted a decently run army, neither of them craved for command or leadership, both had an understanding of how mechs behaved and why – their similarities in attitudes were too many to ignore. Silverstorm knew that he could really tell to him what he thought. So far they had a tacit agreement, but perhaps the time has come to make up it into a real cooperation.

"Our situation is slag. We have degraded from not able to win the war to a fast approaching defeat. We have come to a point where we cannot defend our own army and our cause from its leader any more."

"Assessment: agreed. Query: proposed solution?"

"Can he be… I don't know… healed? He used to be a great leader. Can he be made sane again?"

"Proposal: use of telepathy? Projection: Megatron healed: win not assured."

"Yeah, if you can. I can't see anything else that would change him. Reason doesn't seem to work, manipulation either and force would be treason."

"Mental influence: treason as well."

"Then what do you propose? I can't see anyone able to take his place. Neither of us is a born leader, Shockwave is a bad joke… besides it would be treason as well."

"Assessment: Autobots will win the war. Prediction: within a vorn. Our actions: minimize defeat/damages. Ensure: Decepticon goals remain."

"How?"

"Ensure: survival. End war: favorable terms. Influence Autobots. Proposal: exterminate all old senators."

"Why the last? Do you think they would want to grab power once the war ends?"

"Positive. Plans: already in place."

"And you think that Optimus Prime would be better ruling Cybertron than the ex-Senate. – It wasn't a question really; although Silverstorm was younger than the war but he knew about the corruption and injustice that raged in the pre-war Cybertronian society. All Decepticons knew about it for some degree, that was why they joined their cause. And as much as they never said it outright, during the vorns they became familiar with the way the Autobots functioned, and though they mostly sneered at it, called it soft-sparked, it was still clear that for a peacetime society their system was way better. Not to mention Optimus Prime who was certainly living up to his ideals more so than some of the previous Primes and certainly far more than the Senate and its nobles. – "Why have you come to me with this plan? What can we do?"

"Silverstorm: formerly Neutral. Surviving Senators: hiding in Neutral colonies."

"I see. I should tell where they are so you can send assassins."

"Affirmative."

"But only the Senators, right? The Neutrals in general are… well, maybe they were cowards to flee the war, but not guilty or dangerous. Those colonists can be the way for rebuilding Cybertron and a new generation."

"Agreed. Also: contact with Autobots necessary. Seekers: have ways."

"We can talk to them, true. Give them an overview, get a feel of what they plan for after the war, plant suggestions – is that what you want?"

"Affirmative."

"Agreed then."

**Stormbringer**

It was highly satisfying the way Bumblebee reacted, or rather answered to him; exceeding their expectations, he caught on immediately and apparently knew what he was supposed to do. Well, satisfying maybe wasn't the best word for it; amazing or even pleasurable might have covered it more. And it was only the beginning, he smiled to himself as they were flying again, all three of them together, in a good mood that he came to relish, realizing how he missed it over the last vorns. Their styles started to blend again, they worked together almost perfectly; the almost broken harmony was starting to reassert itself in them and Stormbringer was not even surprised when suddenly, without any commands or signal they all landed on an empty land, high up in some mountains. Once transformed and on the ground they fell together into a wordless hug that had nothing salacious in it, nothing intimate… only an overwhelming need to get close, get touching and touched, feel the others. The three fliers nestled together into a pile, cuddling, snuggling and wordlessly caressing each other's wings and frames. There were no words in the act and no charge, only emotions, instinct, fields overlapping - and the trine bond flaring and strengthening with it yet again.

They returned to the Ark in a haze of happiness that stayed with them all orn, like an almost visible armour around them. It stayed when he saw Prowl's almost, but not quite scowling face, it stayed when Skyfire looked at Skyraider with a pitiful expression, like a whipped cur, or the ogling of Ratchet straight after; and it wasn't broken by the open hostility of two minibots whom they almost stumbled into. That last one was not intentional of course, their attention was drawn to the big shuttle who followed them around until the white-gold Seeker lost his calm and snapped at him. They all came together at one of the intersections of the Ark corridors, jets, minibots, shuttle, medic and the SIC milling around awkwardly, easily a dozen unsaid grievances and wishes crackling the air between them, covered up by the polite sentences…

"Excuse me, I am in a hurry."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to knock you over."

"Is there something I can help you?"

"I was on my way to…"

"Can you get over that any time soon…?"

"That was awesome flying, you know?"

… until Stormbringer cracked up and uncharacteristically started to laugh aloud at the commotion, the façade and the ultra polite sentences covering up the real thoughts. He gathered Bumblebee close in a rather noticeably possessive manner, while they both snickered at Skyraider, tangled up with the flustered medic and clearly not liking his predicament. It was obvious to him that his courting of Bumblebee encouraged a whole lot of other dispositions towards the single Seeker and he was looking forward to seeing how Skyraider was handling them. It was all an integral part of Seeker life, to be social, to be involved and often to have troubles from being involved in some way; and it was serious Trine matter to help the others in their troubles, support them in their choices and in general love them unconditionally in their special way.

It was high time Skyraider learned to be social, he thought; the former Air Commander had always been alone, separated by rank, by his own suspicious, closed nature and the general mood in the Decepticon army that frowned upon emotions, even the Trine ones. Here, they had all the opportunities of the world to relearn their better natures, to act like true Seekers again; not the mindless war machines that they were considered before the war and not the ruthless warriors that they were thought to be in the Con army. No, they were both wrong; Autobots and Decepticons alike. Neither understood Seekers, nor had they accepted them really. But the war must end one orn, and Stormbringer somehow felt, rather than hoped that that day was getting closer – and when it ends, the Seekers must have their own way of life once again. They must retain, relearn and restore the traditions and that meant their own behaviour too. It wouldn't matter whom Skyraider would choose to associate with – only that he did.

**Sunstreaker**

They were coming back from patrol, when the three colourful jets shot up into the clear, blue sky with a magnificent roar of engines that immediately captured their attentions. It made a rather pretty picture that he decided to paint once they got to their quarters; the vibrant colours of the Seekers over the dark of the volcano, all lit from behind by the not quite setting but already low on the sky Sun. They stopped at the entrance to watch them fly and play in the air, obviously oblivious to the watchers on the ground – or as much oblivious to them as vain Seekers could ever get. Sunstreaker noticed that they weren't the only ones to watch either; Skyfire was at the hangar entrance that he preferred with Wheeljack, some of the Aerialbots lurked higher up at the mountainside; and surprised, he noticed Ratchet coming out to stand beside them as well, looking upwards with an almost… almost wishful expression?

"They look amazing in the air."

"Sure." – he snorted. He wasn't going to show how much he was enjoying the spectacle, much less the interesting tingling that he felt at the thought of drawing them as he imagined.

_::Hey Sunny, it is all right to appreciate looks, you know?:: _- Sideswipe commented on the feelings he perceived through their bond. – _::I want to see what you draw of them though.::_

_::Frag off. And don't call me Sunny. I know that you are after Skyraider, so don't even try to hide it from me.::_

_::Not hiding… just… well, you didn't come over at the party.::_

_::Why? 'been rebuffed?:: _- He focused on the white-gold Seeker, breaking away from the other two in some kind of a maneuver. Most Seekers had the same frame types, he knew, meaning that the main differences were in the paint and personality… but still he was almost familiar. Sunstreaker would never tell anyone, but he did draw Seekers more than once; their gracefulness in the air, the aesthetic lines of their frames were not something that his artistic sense could just pass up. Sideswipe of course knew about it, and kept his secret fascination between them; the Aerialbots could keep all the ridicule and suspicion for admiring the Con Seekers, they didn't need it. But things changed and now they had Seekers whom could be drawn, admired… hmm, even pursued if they wanted to. He let a bit of the latter feeling bleed into the bond and caught the glance from Sideswipe in return.

_::I'm all for it you know. But we have a contest then.:: _- his glance moved silently around, pointing out the big shuttle, the lurking fliers, the medic who still looked uncharacteristically awed.

_::The shuttle is no rival. The Aerialbrats… pfahh, they are younglings. Ratchet… hmm….::_

"What's up, Ratch, enjoying the spectacle?"

"I, uhhh… I just came out to have a bit of a fresh air…"

"Fresh air, straight out of Seeker exhausts?"

"Hey, it is not like I am standing here alone."

"We just came back from patrol." – Sideswipe pointed out smugly.

"Yes, well… I'm going back now."

It wasn't like Ratchet to be so… flustered. He wasn't even snarking and didn't have a sharp comeback. Was he seriously **that** interested…? And if he was, in which of them? The blue Seeker didn't waste any time starting to court Bumblebee quite openly, and nobody was sure exactly how much commitment that meant, was it still possible to be interested in either of them or it was a done deal with the courting?

_::At the party… they were a bit less than enthusiastic. Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned Jet Judo for starters?::_

_::Or shouldn't have spread glue on their floor…?::_

_::Aww, that was just… ::_

_::That was just you an idiot.::_

_::He doesn't know it was me.::_

_::He will, soon. There will be many who'll tattle.::_

_::I'll make up for it with some high-grade.::_

_::You? He'll probably pour it on you.::_

_::Aww, Sunny…::_

_::Or maybe I will pour it all over on you.::_

_::You can offer them something though. You are clean yet.::_

_::What do you mean?::_

_::Do that drawing and I will have it appear in his room. Sorta courting or whatnot, they seem to be big on it.::_

_::Hnhn.:: _- Sunstreaker snorted through his vents, scowling at his brother, but in reality he liked the idea; it would show off his talents and at the same time make an advance to the Seeker; one that he could ignore if he want to and not make a public spectacle out of it. The yellow twin wasn't usually trying to be subtle in his advances, but something, maybe the Seeker's personality stopped him from the direct – and pushy - approach that Sideswipe already tried and failed with. Sunstreaker remembered the drawing that Bumblebee asked him to restore; another, similar one, showing them as a trine now would go nicely with that attitude, even if it was Skyraider not the deactivated Seeker whom it was done to this time.

**Bumblebee**

They practiced together as many times as they could in the next few orns, Skyraider drilling them – mainly him – in maneuvers, formations, teaching tricks and eventually it showed as his knowledge grew together with his confidence. They even talked about setting the Trine ritual in a near future; the bonds among them strengthened all the time they flew together – and after getting to know him a bit more, Bumblebee even got comfortable with the idea of the three of them interfacing together. He knew that he would never get particularly close to the white-gold Seeker, but as Trine, he acknowledged their need to be close, act together, fly together – and get intimate together as well. It was all Trine and he slowly started to feel the difference between Trine connections and their own closeness with Stormbringer.

They were right, he thought, grounders could never understand the myriad ties and bonds that interconnected the Seekerkin – on some barely perceivable level he even felt the connection to the Con Seeker brothers too. He was glad that neither of them had close families, creator and sire bonds to complicate it even further. He knew that through the two old and influential Seekers he was connected to many of the still functioning Seekers, but fortunately this was only a knowledge – he didn't need any more ties to complicate things. Especially, he thought, as courting in general heavily involved relatives which he so didn't need. So far, he was just glad to progress in small steps in the Trine bond by getting to know his trine-mates as well as they discovered him. But quiet times never last long in a war and soon they had their first battle as Trine…

_"Bumblebee, take the Seeker Trine and fly a patrol over the coastal region. Human authorities reported casetticons spying around two of their nuclear plants and they are worried about an attack."_

_"Yes, Sir, we'll go at once."_

Bumblebee turned to the other Seekers, telling them why they had to go out beside the regular patrol. They wasted no time going, Skyraider hiding his own anxiety of maybe facing with those whom he was fighting with for so long. He was sure of his choice, just like Stormbringer, but it would still be a new experience for them, going into a battle with a conscious choice, instead of being thrown into it by an attack. They flew the planned patrol-route, silently for once, sensors sweeping around on full sensitivity, as they were supposed to do, when the expected but dreaded blips turned up on the radar. A lot of them, obviously an attacking force, just like they thought.

_"Bumblebee to Ark. We have contact."_

_"We copy, Bumblebee, give us the details."_

_"Decepticons moving towards McGuire Nuclear Station in NC. Full force, Megatron leading. Distance five kliks."_

_"We are rolling out, stand by until we arrive."_

They stayed nearby, flying in circles until the Autobots arrived, updating them as the Decepticons got closer. It was promising to be one of those rare occasions when they had a chance to thwart Megatron's plans by intercepting them before they got to the nuclear plant to harass the humans. Prime was glad to hear it and dictated a real fast tempo, even if it meant some of the minis lagging behind - it would be worth and a welcome change to fight out in the open, without the Cons holding humans as hostages.

_"Prime, they are almost there! How long before…"_

_"We'll be there in half a breem too. Can you stop them for that much?"_

_"We'll try."_ - Skyraider smirked to himself. He was looking forward to showing the fraggers just what he could do without an idiotic and paranoid commander. The Trine moved as one, diving towards the approaching Cons in a frontal assault that would be suicide if they kept it up for long. Not that he had any intention to do so, only to surprise and scatter the Decepticons; and after the initial missiles and strafing run he ordered them to herd them towards the approaching Autobots. It worked like wonder, Skyraider saw the outrage on Megatron's face as he and Soundwave tried to keep together the army that all but lost its momentum and its goal – but he didn't have a lot of time to observe the deliciously frustrated faces before the Coneheads were on them.

It was almost ridiculously easy to avoid the slaggers, even with a less than experienced wingmate on whom he continuously kept half an optic all the time. The Coneheads weren't match for any of them and if they avoided Ramjet ramming into one and kept to standard maneuvers, they had little to worry about them – initiative and original thinking was definitely not the Con jets' strong point. Skyraider led them in a precise and clear manner, and Bumblebee had no problem keeping up with the other two Seekers – in a little while he even started to enjoy the dogfight. The others, on the ground also stood in a good position to win and the Con retreat was imminent – until the two new Seekers appeared and threw themselves enthusiastically into the aerial battle, making it suddenly harder for the Autobot Trine.

These two were far better than the Coneheads – besides making them really work they had time to strafe the Autobot ground troops as well, effectively multitasking and almost turning the battle to their side. Silverstorm gone as far as engaging the three of them alone, weaving in and out among their paths with hardly a mark on his wings to show for his daring, while his brother methodically took out the Autobot snipers before helping out the silvery flier in the air. Thrust and Dirge was in the meanwhile boggled down with the Aerialbots who got their act together in the presence of Seekers; they all knew that their performance would be examined and picked apart after the battle.

_"Storm, Bee is lining up in pattern Delta2. Lead Silverstorm that way while I take care of the black one."_

_"Affirmative."_ – echoed from two comms and Bumblebee apparently chased Ramjet away, while Stormbringer got himself into a target lock by Silverstorm and started frantic escaping maneuvers. During the boggling rolls and twists he lead them closer and closer to the place where suddenly Bumblebee was jumping to and locking onto the silver jet, firing calmly on him. It worked like a charm, Bumblebee's reluctance to warp a lot made the other Seeker forget that he could and he lost the yellow Seeker from his attention. Paying the price for that he escaped, trailing smoke, while his brother covered his retreat.

_"Yeah! Got him!"_ – Bumblebee was almost as excited when he first shot in a battle vorns ago. It was just that much different to see the battle from above, to engage fliers instead of sniping from the back lines as was his usual place; not being a real warrior, he rarely got into the thick of the fray. In his enthusiasm though he lagged behind the others and left Stormbringer without cover; it was just a few kliks but enough for Ramjet to appear out of the blue and crash into him. The crazy jet was of course used to such collisions and after untangling himself, he flew on, if a bit wobbly; but Stormbringer was damaged more and crashed into the middle of the fray, giving the Stunticons a chance to fire on him before Bumblebee realized his mistake and warped to his side. Grabbing the already unconscious jet, he jumped to behind the frontline, where Ratchet awaited the injured. He got to work on him straight away, closing the most serious energon leaks to stabilize him.

"Don't worry, Bee, he'll come around soon. None of the injuries are life-threatening."

_"Bumblebee, get back to the air NOW!"_ – Skyraider was livid. That was exactly what he was expecting; the new Seeker got lax for only a klik and immediately things went bad. Bumblebee should have known better than celebrate before the battle ended; had he done it on the ground it wouldn't have really mattered, but in a Trine they depended on each other far more than grounders ever did. It didn't matter that the battle was as good as won and Megatron already ordered the retreat; until enemy was in sight there was no place to get slack. Of course he didn't blame the Seeker for saving Stormbringer afterwards, but as soon as he was in safety, he needed the yellow jet back in the air. They had to finish up and follow the retreating Cons; the Aerialbrats could yell and laugh enthusiastically in the general comm frequency, but they were Seekers and had a reputation to maintain - no celebrating or other diversions until the enemy was in sight. A battle ends when the enemy is gone.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: I'm not totally satisfied with the battle scene at the end, but couldn't make it any better, so left it as it is. Sorry about that.


	14. Plans and Pranks

**Note**: from Chapter 10 onwards Skyraider = ex!Starscream; Stormbringer = ex!Thundercracker and to reiterate, Bumblebee = ex!Skywarp albeit a little differently.

"normal speech"

"_comm"_

_::bond::_

* * *

><p><strong>14. Plans and pranks<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Skyraider<strong>

He sat with the dejected yellow Seeker, uncomfortable at first as they never before talked face to face alone. Stormbringer was in med bay for another joor and Ratchet sent them both out since he had others too injured and didn't want the two jets to be underfoot. So, he was sitting with Bumblebee, keeping him company… and trying to make small talk. He has never been good at that particular pastime, but he'd try for the other's sake.

"If it is any consolation, you didn't make such a big mistake up there. I'm a perfectionist in the air, as Storm' will certainly tell you when he can."

"Still… I did make that mistake and it could have been worse."

"We are all prone to mistakes. Learn from them and go on, that's what they say is the healthy attitude. You've learned a lot since I know you."

"Yeah. You are a good teacher. Strict and fair, just…" – a sly glance from the yellow Seeker – "…a tiny bit tetchy."

"What!"

"Uhh… well, I think it is the same as you called yourself perfectionist. You get easily angered by others' mistakes."

Skyraider sat quietly after that for almost a breem. When he spoke up next, his voice was low, uneasy, almost nervous.

"I guess that was how I was raised. Never praised for anything, always rebuked, scolded… and it didn't help that later Megatron's always blamed me for everything."

It must have taken an enormous effort to say this aloud and Bumblebee knew that he must not foul it up. Changing as he was, it was still a huge step forward.

"I know… it must have been hard to take that orn by orn."

"Well. Hard is one thing to express it with. Living Pit is another. Especially when the Trine started to fall apart. That was partly my fault, I know… that's why I try so hard to make up for it. It is not always you personally… just me trying too hard."

"No, I understand. Really. I want to make it work too. For Storm', for you, for me… it is so… natural, so good to have the Trine around. I don't mind an occasional dressing down if I make a blunder."

Skyraider looked for a long time at the yellow Seeker, taking the stare without fidgeting, without getting nervous, retaining that small half-smile that was so characteristic of him. He started to see what Storm found in this former grounder, in this… Bumblebee. He wasn't a high-strung one like most Seekers, he was milder and more… mellow, he supposed was the word that best described him; but it was kinda sweet and likeable in him. Maybe in Vos, among hundreds of Seekers he would be derided or even taken advantage of for his softer nature; but then, he thought bitterly, there weren't hundreds of Seekers anywhere, any more, and among the Autobots, this was perhaps a more fitting attitude than his own sharp and jaundiced one. Or maybe… maybe they both can learn something from each other.

"_You can collect Stormbringer now, he is about to come round."_ – their comms interrupted the silent musing in their minds, Ratchet notifying them from med bay. The sudden happiness blossoming on Bumblebee's face was a sight to watch – Skyraider thought it was not unlike a sparkling's utter and honest joy. That was love, no doubt about it. It kindled a tiny bit of twanging emptiness in him too – now that the Trine was on a good track again, would he have something for himself too?

**Skyfire**

He was getting nowhere with this. The last time he tried to talk to Skyraider he got until the 'Star' before he snapped and told him off soundly for calling him that. Actually, the shuttle knew that he was right, they were in a public place and his former identity was supposed to be a secret – but it didn't help him to make the stubborn Seeker listen. He only had the advantage of their previous association and if he couldn't use that, then what did he have? Skyraider somehow managed to came to the science labs mostly when he was not there; he probably tweaked his duty schedule with the flying hours so they would avoid each other. What he didn't understand was why the Seeker was avoiding him – so much so that he never got around even to ask the why.

Skyfire went to his quarters after another day and its frustration. Since the party he kept watching out for himself; he never before was the target of the twins' pranks but Sideswipe's promise then made him wary too. But so far he was left alone, even though he heard Skyraider's case with the glue. It surprised him really, he mused as he entered into his private washracks for a quick shower, Sideswipe looked like he was after the white-gold Seeker, not out annoying him. But then, the twins could probably never pass up a prank no matter who was the target. Skyfire enjoyed the solvent pattering on his wings, its warmth melting at least some of his frustration, cleaning his great frame meticulously. Turning off the solvent, he just stepped out from the washracks when a strange, whitish, powdery fog wreathed around him, stopping him in mid step. What was that?

He turned back towards the rack, observing the phenomena. The strange, foglike substance clogged up his intakes a bit and he cycled the filters a few times to get rid of the annoying plug that already started to form in them. The thing looked like some kind of a powder, fine enough that it was still swirling in the air, annoyingly clinging to his armour, making it look dusty and dirty again. He hoped that it wouldn't be exploding or dangerous, as he stepped back under the showerhead with a rare expletive – he might not be one to swear a lot but nobody who knew Starscream could avoid collecting an impressive vocabulary to do so when a situation demanded. He quickly washed himself down again – the powder seemed to be more annoying than dangerous and he turned on the dryer, as he was running a bit late with all the time spent here.

Once dried and waxed, he inspected his armour for the last time, collecting a bit of the powder into a spare cube for a later analysis, and proceeded to go to the rec-room, where he decided to make a last attempt to talk to Skyraider, this time, he decided, not taking no for an answer. Even if he could not consider him 'his' Star and build on their shared past, they should be able to start something anew. Or so he hoped. Stepping into the rec-room, he saw the Seekers at their usual table, talking quietly, the other two with their backs to him, Skyraider looking up and noticing him. He wasn't scowling – yet – and it made Skyfire hopeful; trying to appease him even more, he pulled up his knowledge of the wing-language and went for one of the nicer greetings.

Or so he tried, for his wings, that were far less mobile than the Seekers' to begin with, moved with a strange sluggishness and even worse than that – with an embarrassingly loud creak of the wing-joint. Skyfire's faceplates flamed hot at once; the sound was the rough equivalent of a human faux pas like farting in public. All three Seekers turned towards him incredulously and Skyfire didn't wait to see their reaction – he turned and bolted out with a speed not normally associated with his big, bulky frame on the ground and didn't stop until his quarters again. He wasn't sure if he would ever go out of it again or just die in embarrassment…

After a few breems of total scramble of thoughts, he started pulling himself together and thinking again. Now that he knew about it, he felt something in his joints, mainly on his backside, although what it was he didn't know. But it was impossible for himself to even examine the thing, much less take it out; and if the solvent didn't wash it out from the seams, he had to go to the med-bay for help. He slinked fast and quietly in the back corridors to avoid meeting with anyone – he was sure that his composure wouldn't yet hold up if anyone cracked a joke at his expense. Ratchet was in med-bay and after his description of what happened, he soon unclasped several pieces of his armour, examining the joints underneath.

"What in the Pit did you collect under your armor? Even space dust is not this bad."

"No, it is not space dust. A… prank I think, it was in my washrack. A powder of some kind that I thought the solvent washed out."

"Apparently it didn't. Have you got any of the dry powder to see what it is?"

Skyfire remembered the sample that he put into his subspace pocket and took it out. Ratchet examined the powder, scanned it, even smelled it, and interestingly, he called Carly to them to give an opinion.

"Do you think it is a human substance?"

"Yeah, it is called flour." – she answered, looking tiny standing on the med-berth, beside the towering shuttle. – "It is not dangerous – but with water it forms a dough of sorts, that is kinda hard to wash out; and if you've dried with hot air, it probably hardened to form a pastry that is next to impossible to clean out from small spaces, like your armour-seams and wing hinges."

"Ohh, great." – Skyfire moaned – "So it will stay there until I rust? Or until someone invents a solvent for human pastry?"

"Nah, I can help. My hands are small enough to scrape the most of it out – it crumbles well - and the rest can be washed out more easily, once the pastry is broken."

"I thank you for your help." – Skyfire was really thankful to the small human, even if it meant that he had to have her crawling all over his back for the next joor to remove the annoying substance from all seams and crevices.

"Who did this to you, btw? You don't usually get pranked."

"I think the twins… at the last party we were a bit hard on Sideswipe and he might've taken umbrage at that."

"Sideswipe seems to be busy these days."

"Busy with fliers, you mean, Ratchet?" – for a small human, Carly was quite observant.

"What do you mean? Pranks?"

"Those too. But if I didn't know any better I'd swear he is after the new Seeker, Skyraider. He has that look to him that I came to recognize on human males as almost predatory - but not in a violent way, quite different from that." – Carly refrained from saying that he felt very similar vibes from those two presently in her company too. Mechs very often forgot the small humans' presence nearby and she saw a lot on the Ark.

Ratchet gave a sharp look at the human girl. She was observant and the medic learned by then that the females of the human species had very good instincts when it came to relationships, far more than the males. It seemed to work not only with human ones either. If she was right, then the twins were in for some very uncomfortable experiences very soon…

**Skyraider**

They looked after the shuttle with bemusement and accompanying small smiles as he sprinted out of the rec-room. About the last thing he could imagine was to see Skyfire actually running; the big, bulky shuttle was always very careful on the ground, mindful of his size compared to others, and a calm, low-key individual by nature too. He felt sorry for him for a klik too; with his naivety, being pranked and embarrassed in public must have been excruciatingly humiliating. But at least he hoped that it would keep his annoying self away from him and he didn't mind that part. It was not his intention to be cruel to Skyfire, but anything he felt for him a long time ago was simply gone, done, buried – and Skyraider was frustrated that the shuttle seemingly didn't get the message, no matter how clearly he signaled it to him.

"I guess he won't realize it until you start to openly associate with someone else." – his trinemates knew his stance in regards to the shuttle; Stormbringer also knew their history in detail, even more so than Bumblebee.

"I'm afraid of that too."

"Maybe the pranks will discourage him. Sideswipe is a lot to take even for stronger mechs."

"Sideswipe is a lot for anyone to take. He did the glue thing, the fragger, I know. He'd better not showing up around me if he wants to keep both arms."

"He is not that bad. I kinda like him."

"You? I thought they had this attitude against the minibots. I thought you'd hate their guts."

"No, actually, they rarely targeted me. We even had a few… khm… moments together, you know what I mean?"

"No, really?" – both Seekers' attention was on Bumblebee suddenly. Skyraider just couldn't imagine the formerly shy minibot with the vain and aggressive frontliners, while Stormbringer felt an almost jealousy-like emotion for a klik; before he told himself how stupid that was for something that must've happened long ago.

"Yes, really. They are not bad under that scary façade. Uhmm… they were actually… khm… very good…" – he was actually blushing, Skyraider noticed with a smirk. And he was careful to say that in past tense, considering Stormbringer's stony, hiding-something-but-doesn't-show-it face. Seekers were promiscuous and generally not caring much about casual interfacing; but courting changed the rules a bit as it weaved possessiveness and dominance into the usually carefree play that jets took quite seriously.

"I can imagine that. If you consider their so-called Jet Judo…" – he snickered as the blush deepened and Stormbringer drew the yellow jet closer with a barely audible growl staring up in his vocalizer and a possessive flaring of his wings.

"Hey, I believe they are – or at least Sideswipe is rather after you, not me any more." – he was no more than guessing, but he couldn't have said anything better to defuse the blue Seeker's annoyance.

"Yeah, I thought as much at the party too. But why the prank then?" – His straining wings calmed down suddenly, smacking Bumblebee's only just a bit as they came down and he was fondling it straight away, in a silent apology.

"Nah, I don't think so. He was just interested in all of us." – Skyraider was determined to deny noticing any such attention. – "Anyway, let's just go back to our place, before any of our stalkers appear. I'm in no mood for the youngsters' incessant giggling."

Laughing, they made their way to their rooms, where they jokingly tested the floor first, to see if it was free of glue; not that any of them expected the prank to be repeated, just for fun – and to tease Skyraider a tiny bit before going to their own room. But they hardly got into the cuddling phase when the white-gold Seeker was back, almost not letting the door slide out of his way in his hurry.

"Look at this!"

What he showed them was a truly beautiful picture; clearly the three of them on one of their flights together, done with a sure hand and a firm sense for harmony.

"Wow. Just… wow. It is amazing, Sky."

He looked disturbed a bit, but pleased at the same time. – "I found it on my table. I think I must do something with these puny locks on our doors that the Autobots saw fit to employ. I hate that anyone can just waltz through here when they want to."

"It might have been Sideswipe both times."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, no mech else could do that picture but Sunstreaker in such a short time – and that inevitably means Sideswipe too. They are hardly separable."

"But I saw him cuddling with the motormouth Praxian, why would he…?"

"Bluestreak, yeah. That's not serious, they just like 'facing. But Sunny is not famous for giving away any of his paintings, so it must mean a lot from him."

They watched Skyraider as he mused silently in front of them, absentmindedly holding the picture and turning it sometimes, lips working silently in and out; and glanced to each other occasionally with a well-masked mirth dancing only in their optics, talking through their private comm frequency, not wanting to disturb his thoughts.

"_He does look like interested."_

"_Nah, it is only the pros and cons phase for him."_

"_Serious? He is that kind?"_

"_Uhh-huhh. Once I saw a bulleted list on his datapad after a date. Yeah, he is exactly that kind."_

"_Scientist, you said?"_

"_A real complex personality our Starsc… Skyraider. Broke the datapad on my helm when he saw me reading it too."_

"'_am starting to realize that. He looked simpler from the other side – boisterous coward and that's that."_

"_Hahh... you don't know half of it…"_

"I can practically hear you two aftheads talking, you know?"

"_But I want to… will you tell me once?"_

"Love you too, 'Raider. Have you come to a conclusion?"

"_Of course I will. When he's not around."_

"'bout what?"

"No, don't play that with us. You know what. Don't get all clammed up on us again."

"All right… I do consider it… just... it is the TWINS. I'm not sure."

"Well, give them a little time. Get them talking. But keep your options open. That sort of thing."

"Fine, fine. Don't you forget your own thing going while you meddle with mine…"

"Always the cheerful one… you'll get on well with the Sunflower of Doom." – Stormbringer was sure of something sailing his way at that, but fortunately the only object nearby was the picture that Skyraider was clutching oddly protectively and apparently he wasn't going to throw that.

"Yeah, in Jet Judo."

"Hey, that's not far from 'facing… remember, 'Warp used to fantasize 'bout them in that context."

"No, don't remind me at that. I so don't need the images of 'Warp's fantasies."

Bumblebee felt an interesting – and quite unusual - rush of hot but not quite pleasant feeling as they talked about Skywarp. It made him squirm in Stormbringer's hug and an overwhelming desire flooded him to slap him with the closer wing. It took a while to overcome that and realize that it was the equivalent of the jealousy that the blue Seeker displayed when he told about the twins in interfacing context. It was all the more unusual because he definitely didn't feel it before; but apparently the courting process started some deep changes in his programming too. It was actually the very first time that he acknowledged the full force of the Seeker core programming, as it was not something that Skyfire consciously included into his code when he was changed. He remembered the first time he asked Stormbringer if he was a Seeker or not – and although it wasn't a single instance that made the change, it still was the first time he would've answered to that question with a firm yes.

**Silverstorm**

"There goes our last gestalt." – Hook muttered to himself frustrated; it wasn't that often that he couldn't save a patient and it galled him greatly. Motormaster's grayed out chassis was almost bigger than the repair bench; the other benches were taken up with the sedated members of his gestalt. They knew he was unsalvageable, it was glaringly obvious even on the battlefield; he was bled out totally and his spark guttered out sometime in the tower lift no matter what they tried – anything since was a lesson in futility to try and save him. Silverstorm and Soundwave stood in the bay, silently watching on after bringing the fragger in.

"He shouldn't have…"

"It is not his fault. The Autobots shot him."

"Yeah, and it was such a great idea from our glorious leader to pick up the fragger already half deactivated and start an angry tirade at him right there – and smash him into the ground at the end. That broke the main fuel line loose, you know as well as me."

"He could've been patched up still…"

"No mech in this slagging army has first aid qualifications. Superfluous, he said when I mentioned it way back."

They lost all gestalt combiners in the last groon; it started with Bonecrusher perishing on the battlefield, totally crushing the Constructicons' general mood ever since; then Vortex was shot down and it made Bruticus unavailable. And this time… it was Motormaster and there went Menasor too. While all these were just one mech gone, the loss was far worse; the gestalts couldn't form their combined forms with even just one member missing. There was nothing else he could do in there, Silverstorm thought as he left the repair bay; and the loss of Motormaster was probably something that even Megatron wasn't going to blame on him. Not his command, not his responsibility. He has so far always brought back all the Seekers and didn't even leave any Triplechangers behind, much as he sometimes wanted to. With a little luck they could go out and fly a bit after he gave his report and not a trip back to the repair bay…

Despite of his earlier pondering, Silverstorm was actually surprised the almost calm way Megatron took the loss of the Menasor gestalt; lately he hasn't seen him so quiet. But he didn't count his blessings and gathering up his brother, they went on a long, lazy patrol, way over the coast, hailing at the usual points where he could expect either trouble or contact. They found the Autobot Trine en route to somewhere and talked a bit; but they seemed to be preoccupied with their own business and so left soon. A little later they saw two of them darting in and out of the place the humans called Grand Canyon and understood the situation; if it wasn't a courting flight then it was one damned similar to that. Silverstorm appreciated the idea of substituting the Sonic Canyons for their Earth counterpart; while it lacked the unique audible characteristic of its Cybertronian counterpart, it was quite similar in character.

The two jets were fantastic as they weaved in and out of the gulf of the canyon, their vibrant yellow and blue colours complementing the deep, dark reds and ochres of the landscape beautifully. They displayed tremendous skill and harmony as they flew within the canyon walls, following its random curves with a speed no human aircraft could match. Silverstorm amused himself by guessing at which points they'd soar upwards or drop back to the gorge; to a casual observer it all looked like a game of tag that the two Seekers played there. Two very much in love Seekers, if he was anything to judge… he felt a slightest twinge of jealousy seeing them so carefree and happy, enjoying this planet to the fullest that it has to offer and having the freedom and the mood to play courting games. It told a lot about the Autobots without going into ideologies; Silverstorm has always been on the opinion that the so-called warrior way of life shouldn't preclude those points that made living worthwhile. Like love.

**Skyraider**

He was in the lab, bored out of his mind while waiting for an experiment to finish itself, thinking about what Bumblebee told them of the twins. He couldn't deny a certain fascination about the daredevil, conceited, snarky and obnoxious duo; if he was honest to himself, they were simply far too much like himself. Not that he would admit this to anyone else, not even his trinemates. But the vorns of Jet Judo was still too fresh in his mind, those servos that tore ruthlessly into his precious wings so many times – he couldn't imagine them to caress the selfsame wings or himself not flinching every time they would try to. But at least they knew the lure of flying; for grounders they were decent enough to overcome their shortcomings as much as the jetpacks allowed. They could even join him in a mating flight… bah, he was running way ahead, it was just preposterous to think about that at this point.

During his musing, he didn't hear the door hissing open and until the mech was beside him he hasn't noticed that he wasn't alone any more in the lab. Looking up, he saw one of the Aerialbots fidgeting nervously – was it the one called Air Raid, or maybe Skydive? – and he smiled at the youngster to calm him a bit. They were amusing, annoying too, yes, but funny nevertheless. Much like the late Skywarp, he thought, only there were more of them – and far younger.

"How can I help you?" – the youngling obviously needed a bit of encouragement to start talking.

"I, uhhh… we, well, I'd l-like to ask… uhh… if-you-would-come-to-fly-with-me-sometime." – after the initial stammering, he finished the sentence slightly faster than Bluestreak, going up to almost the speed register of Blurr. The only reason he didn't blush, Skyraider thought amusedly, was the dark faceplates; it used to be something he was glad for back when he was in this age. He deliberately misunderstood though what he said – let him sweat a bit more for what he wants to achieve.

"Sure, we can arrange something… and exercise or such. We are happy to teach you."

"I, uhh, I… meant you… and me… I mean sure, we'd love to learn from you guys, but n-not that way…" – he stopped, totally embarrassed now, ready to flee and holding back himself with a determination that neither of them knew where it originated. It was so sweet… Skyraider snorted to himself; that was one adjective he probably never used before to a mech. To see that he actually collected enough daring to come up to a real Seeker, an almost stranger one at that, to ask him out – well, he'd've never expected this much from any of the gestalt younglings.

Not that he had any inclination to encourage him of course; sweet and daring he might be but Skyraider had no wish to bond with a youngster whom he hardly even knew. A 'face or two would be fine with him and hopefully the somewhat prudish Autobots wouldn't even bite his head off for debauching their younglings. But he had to be careful with the reaction; the other flier, like all the Aerialbots knew next to nothing about Seeker customs, or in fact about courting in general. Probably he wasn't even sure what he wanted either; just that he did something, a general yearning towards a mate…

"Flying is fine, I'm always up to some. Question is: is that what you really want?" – he softened the straight question with a wing flick, but realized that he probably didn't catch that part – "I mean you wouldn't be this nervous for just a little joyflight, would you?"

"S-sure, no… I mean, well… I w-wanted to get to know you a… a bit more." – Air Raid was getting a bit bolder and loosing some of the nervousness. He still stuttered a bit and hated himself for it, but at least the Seeker didn't… well, hasn't told him off. He fanned a bit his wings that so far fluttered nervously and found that he couldn't flare them as much he would have liked to; and realized that the reason for that were Skyraider's wings that displayed a proud dominance of the stronger, older flier, putting him down without a single word said.

"I appreciate that… I really am. And I look forward to it – as far as you don't delude yourself that it is more." – it is best to be completely honest from the beginning; youngsters are great in hearing only what they want to and dismiss the rest.

Air Raid was dejected as he took the words in; the Seeker told him exactly as Skydive said that he would – reject him as a youngling, even though he did it nicely. But he was sick of being considered a youngster, even more so by the Seeker. He did feel affection towards Skyraider that was different from the one he felt for his brothers and though he wasn't sure if it was love or what, but he definitely wanted to find out. If only the Seeker would let him… maybe if he proved himself to be more than a stammering idiot? Air Raid suddenly wanted, prayed for a battle with the damned Cons right away, so he could show this Seeker just how NOT a youngling he was. His nervousness was lessening and his rebellious, reckless nature starting to reassert itself; after all he had nothing to lose now, had he?

"Uhh… okay, I guess… but… I'd still like to know you more." – he blurted out before he could stop himself, desperately trying to hitch up his wings to at least the same level as the Seeker – he thought it to be necessary for his goal, not realizing that it only signified the differences between their status. It was a losing battle, but he couldn't have known it; he simply had no chance to level his wings with a Seeker of ex-Starscream's caliber and although he didn't know it on a conscious level, his meta certainly felt it. Consequently he left the lab feeling rejected and determined at the same time. He was thinking… maybe a prank until a battle comes his way? It usually worked for the twins.

**Bumblebee**

Happiness and exuberance almost bubbling in him, Bumblebee just came back from the truly amazing flight in the Grand Canyon; dipping in to the rec-room for a few cubes of energon for them he was heading back to their quarters to continue there with Stormbringer. But halfway through there a call stopped him and politeness dictated him not to employ a certain human gesture of frustration…

"Hey, Bee! Come here a bit, will ya?"

"Sure Sides', what is it?"

The twins looked uncharacteristically nervous. Well, the red hellion looked nervous, while Sunstreaker looked his usual pissed off self, maybe sprinkled with a bit of uncertainty. They sat at the rec-room, talking, surrounded by cubes of high grade and Bumblebee knew that it was never a good sign to see them overcharging publicly outside a party; inevitably any such scenario ended up involving Prowl, sometimes even Ratchet and usually got finished in the brig or such. But he didn't want to let them down, so he went to sit with them for – hopefully just – a few breems of conversation. The happiness stayed with him and he knew that they too noticed it, although the reason for it probably wasn't yet known to them. It would, soon, he knew, it took the Prime's connections to sorta 'book' the Grand Canyon for their little joyflight, and they agreed to humans filming and publishing it too. Such things would never stay unknown in the Ark.

"We want to ask some things about Seekers. You know, like… that."

"Like… what?"

"Umm, like, the thing you and Stormbringer do?"

"Interfacing? I thought you were old enough to know about that already."

He heard a growl from Sunstreaker but still laughing, playfully turned towards the now angry-looking twin. Sunstreaker definitely didn't like anyone making fun of him. – "Okay, Sunny, calm down. He/we liked the painting, so that's a good start."

"Give us some pointers maybe? We know nothing about courting Seeker-style."

"Sides, he is not expecting you to court him like a Seeker would. You are grounders, it's different. Just do what feels right."

"Well… it is not like we did a lot of courting so far… you know the circles we moved before the war, it wasn't like anyone was courting in the Arena. Basically we'd like to know what he likes and such."

"Ahh… I see. Hmm... Main point: don't even bother with high-grade unless you want him cratered. Doesn't like it and cannot take much. You get farther with energon treats."

"That's a good idea…" – Sideswipe was mentally already considering how to make treats – maybe he could make some with a little high-grade filling? Worth experimenting with; it'd be good business, even aside from courting.

"Any particular interests?"

"Science…"

"Uhh… where do you take a scientist for a date?"

"A Seeker scientist? To an air-show, maybe? He'd grumble about inept humans flying but enjoy it all the same."

"That's a good one, thanks. Any other advice?"

"Yeah, one. Always watch the wings. It is not that hard to understand the basics and worth following what they say. He is born Seeker, tells many thing only with the wings, not aloud."

"Ohh… will do. Thanks Bee."

The so far happy and bouncing Bumblebee suddenly turned serious as he sat facing the already plotting twins, opticking them carefully.

"Guys… one thing I must ask. What is your intention with Skyraider?"

"And why would it interest you?"

"He is Trine."

"Hey, it's not like we want to… you know, with all of you!"

"You don't seem to understand. Trine means that even if you court one, you have to deal with all three. We care about each other. Help each other. Protect each other if needed, although he is perfectly capable of tying your arms into a knot if he refuses the advance. But the point is, we do and will have a say about who can court our trinemate."

"I just don't get why…" – Sideswipe rarely got this serious. Apparently he was in it more than he'd wanted to show it. It was harder to judge Sunstreaker's attitude, but he seemed to be interested too, which for him meant a lot. The two of them were usually content with succinctly jumping the one that got their interest, so this level of enquiry was in itself an indication of just how deeper they felt about the matter. Which was a good sign as far as he was concerned…

"Trine bonds are almost on the level of yours in strength. What he feels, who he feels it with affect us too. It's not fully a package deal, like a gestalt member would be – after all, we can tone down the bond - but we have to be at least comfortable with his suitors."

"I see. And… are you?"

"You won't get an objection from me." – Bumblebee smirked openly. The twins were trouble personified, but Skyraider would just be the one able to handle them and… well, maybe tame them, although he'd never say that concept aloud. – "But I still want an answer. How serious are you?"

_::Actually, bro'… how serious are we?::_

_::Well, I don't want to bond just yet. We hardly know him personally.::_

_::That's what courting is for, to find out, no? Meet, talk… 'face…::_

_::Sorta…::_

"Do we have to decide right now?"

"No, of course not. So it's not formal courting, just an expression of interest, right?"

"Yet."

"Then it's fine with me."

At which point an angry-looking Stormbringer stormed in the rec-room, looking daggers at the twins as he gathered up the snickering yellow Seeker to him.

"Hey, Storm', don't get your diodes all knotted up! We were just talking to Bee, nothing more!"

"Have I mentioned uncharacteristic possessiveness during courting?" – Bumblebee called back to them from the doorway, still laughing aloud both at the blue Seeker's stormy expression and the Twins' bemused one. He strangely enjoyed the sudden attention lately.


	15. Climax

**Note**: from Chapter 10 onwards Skyraider = ex!Starscream; Stormbringer = ex!Thundercracker and to reiterate, Bumblebee = ex!Skywarp albeit a little differently.

**Warning**: character death in the last chapter

"normal speech"

"_comm"_

_::bond::_

* * *

><p><strong>15. Climax<strong>

**Silverstorm**

He sat in front of the monitors, bored and apprehensive at the same time. The room was almost empty, as was usual lately, only Soundwave worked at another terminal; for once no cassetticons were present with him. The oppressive feel of the energon shortage lifted somewhat with the unplanned catch that the Seekers hauled back from an otherwise regular patrol and consequently even the Coneheads were regarded almost like heroes in the Decepticon base. Why the Autobots were transporting such huge amount of energon with such meager security was not questioned by anyone, fortunately not even by Megatron. Some things were better not said and Silverstorm, albeit he could, didn't like lying.

He glanced over to the communications officer when he nodded his head very slightly sidewise, just like when he usually got into contact with his cassettes. In a few breems he heard the tower lift rising and some time later going back down, depositing Laserbeak and Ravage to the deck. They both looked smugly satisfied, but at the same time tired and clearly in need of a good, long recharge. They slotted into Soundwave's chest, presumably to give their reports and straight after he sent the duo into their room to rest. Silverstorm opened a comm line to the navy mech, to enquire about details.

"_How did it go?"_

"_Mission: accomplished."_

"_How many remains?"_

"_Senatorial number: one."_

"_You will send them again soon then?"_

"_Last senator: elusive. Discovered assassinations. Presently: in hiding."_

"_I guess it means that we won't have to cover the cassettes' absence for a while again."_

"_Affirmative. Alternative solution: needed."_

"_I can ask an… associate from Cybertron to go and find him. Sort of a bounty hunter. He owes me a favor - and he is not missed like your cassettes. Megatron is bound to notice one orn that they are away so much."_

"_Query: how soon?"_

"_If I can contact him… maybe five to ten orns."_

"_Solution: acceptable."_

"_How has Shockwave taken your enquiry? Got him suspicious or he trusts your loyalty?"_

"_Negotiations: early stage. Suspicion: expected. Shockwave: aware of situation."_

"_I guess that's about what we'd hoped for so soon…"_

Megatron's entrance to the room cut the conversation short. Even if he couldn't hear the comm line, especially not with his own communication officer shielding it, a reaction could give them away if they were not careful. Even with absolutely nothing happening in the room, the tyrant glowered at them suspiciously, like he always did it lately on general principles. These orns there was absolutely nothing that defused his suspicion, not the deadly silence of the base, not the quiet efficiency of his Air Commander, not the unquestioning loyalty of his SIC – even the ever-obedient Shockwave got a paranoid tirade or two in the last groon and looked the less happy for it. Things were shaping up nicely for a grand finale, Silverstorm thought hopefully.

**Stormbringer**

"Come on, they say the big storm we were waiting for is coming around." – Skyraider was if anything a bit more nervous than the other two. After all, he won't be up there with them, not this time, and although they were competent fliers, it would test them to their utmost. They collected Bumblebee from the rec-room, Stormbringer simply picking him up from where he was discussing something with the twins _again_ – Skyraider made a mental note to ask later what they had to talk about. Hopefully not another prank on Skyfire; by this time even he started to feel sorry for the shuttle – not to mention how he disliked the yellow mech meddling in **his** affairs. They headed out to the Ark entrance, where Ratchet joined them; he was grumbling at not being told why it was possible that he would be needed, but stopped it and looked pleased when he saw that the white-gold Seeker didn't join him trinemates in transforming and taking off to the gathering clouds.

"Are you staying dirtside this time? Not that I complain, but why?"

"It's their business." – a sly glance at the medic – "I never seem to lack companions anyway."

"It was you asking me to be out this time." – Ratchet pointed out, deliberately playing on the double meanings, unobtrusively sweeping his optics over the lithe body of the Seeker.

"Yeah, for safety. Don't see more to it than there is, medic." – Skyraider started to get enough of not being able to do anything in the Ark without someone giving him the looks – or more.

"Why is that exactly?"

"They will fly in the storm. It might get dangerous."

The two Seekers rose fast in the darkening sky, passing through the rain, buffeted by the strengthening wind, crossing the foggy, swirling blackening clouds and emerging above it into the still sparkling sunshine, over the pure white of the cloud cover with its myriad strange formations. Once there, they danced together in the familiar pattern that they started to weave in their last outings together; despite of what grounders might think, mating flight displays don't come as a stroke of lightning from nothing, but rather built up in the pair of Seekers in question, as they synch their flying and personalities together. They played a bit over the clouds until their sensors told them that the storm was building up to its climax and then dipped down, into the maelstrom of wind and rain.

Bumblebee let the wind tear him away from his mate, not quite cutting his engines, but allowing the storm to drive and throw him around like a leaf, laughing into the comm, calling and promising in a throaty voice. Torrential rain flowed on dimly glowing yellow plates under the blackness of the stormclouds, so brilliant white from above. High winds danced around his wings, making him think of the glyphs and laugh aloud. His sensors were slowly going haywire at the overflow of inputs and the randomness of his movements. Stormbringer tore after him, following, weaving a protective spiral around him, growling and grumbling in his deep bass voice, defying the storm winds, answering to the seducing calls. They fell together, rose together, rolled and danced together; sometimes letting the storm dictate their path, sometimes resisting the pull and go boldly against the maelstrom.

All through their windblown dance they stayed apart, keeping a sensible distance, even as they passed each other sometimes by mere meters when the storm intervened. But as the flight warmed their systems over, despite of the icy rain and the cold winds, they inched together, letting static electricity arc over from wingtip to wingtip, lighting them up with St Elmo's blue flames, moaning in tandem as it cursed through their frames as pure bliss. They flew closer and closer, keeping on their separate paths but crossing it more and more often, drawing the little arcs as they passed. They whispered sweet nothings and lewd suggestions over the comm line. Their world narrowed to a pair of yellow and blue wings with matching fuselage and golden cockpits, drenched in rainwater, buffeted by the storm that couldn't cool them down any more.

On the ground Skyraider kept his sensors as well as his optics on the pair, albeit the storm made it next to impossible to follow them. He trusted the budding Trine bond to warn him if something unexpected happened, but so far he only got the rising level of charge that told him that the flight was perfectly all right, building up to the expected climax. It inadvertently caused his wings to flutter sometimes with the overflowing feelings that he couldn't filter out from the bond. Ratchet beside him was slightly less sure of things going all right, but he had the Seeker all to himself to take his mind off things and it worked surprisingly well. It was a good idea to nag Prowl a bit about the twins' duty schedule.

"Is this stormflying a traditional courting move too?"

"Well, it didn't start out exactly as traditional, but came to be such. Cybertron had no such weather, as you well know. It came around later, when watery planets were discovered, with their fascinating variety of weather forms – and the ferocity of any such."

"Yeah, I've been wondering about that. Acid rains are not a challenge to fly in, but downright suicide."

"Once Seekers discovered weather, specifically storms and the challenges they presented, they were incorporated into our traditions. We could never pass up testing ourselves and flying in such storms that these kinds of planets occasionally throw up is certainly testing."

"Testing…" – Ratchet snorted – "Damned dangerous if you ask me. What if lightning hits them in flight?"

"Well… that's sort of the point of their flying now."

"What?"

"Hmmm… it is a very special kind of overload, you know?" – Skyraider smirked at the medic's thunderstruck expression – "Well, actually you cannot know about it, now, can you?"

The look on the medic's faceplates was worth everything. – "You are serious, aren't you?"

"Of course I'm serious. It has to do with our unique makeup too; I guess a grounder would only fry a lot of relays if hit by lightning and maybe even get deactivated – but we can hardly avoid it in the air after all."

Ratchet, one had to give him this, was already contemplating the exact nature of such overload - both as a medic and a mech he was more than interested.

"They have to arouse each other like they'd usually do, for that kind of a charge to go through them safely, right?"

"Exactly. Together with the danger that is the high point of this kind of a flight. Avoid lightning until they are ready – and fly into it when it is time."

"Hnhh… must admit I'm interested." – Ratchet tried not to be presumptuous but foregoing snarking which he felt inappropriate, he felt out of his depth. The topic and his imagination already lifted his core temperature enough so that he was fighting for control not to let his fans come online to cool his frame. It'd be so inappropriate to show that he wanted nothing more than jump the Seeker beside him and not give the damn who was watching.

"I can tell." – a dry comment came from the Seeker, moving a small but significant step away from the medic, forcing his wings backwards, away from the other, arms crossed over the cockpit, looking upwards all the time to try and see his trinemates. Refusal incarnate was the image he hoped to present. Really, the medic couldn't have been more obvious - and Skyraider definitely preferred him snarking to fawning.

Overhead the two seekers flew relentlessly, still not touching, still twisting and weaving around the other in perfect harmony among the roaring fury of the storm. The heat of their systems grew until even the icy, black rain could not drench them, the droplets evaporating before they could touch the overheated frames and wings. Desire, protectiveness and lust rose in Stormbringer's processor, along with the heat. The same desire radiated back from Bumblebee, along with belonging and trust. So far they've gone around the occasional lightning bolts, avoiding them like in an obstacle course, weaving them into their dance pattern; but at last they got closer to each other, fuselage and cockpits flush, flying like one in an unseen display of mastery.

The two jets looked like fused together as they rode the still raging storm. Slender cables connected them and through the hardline their feelings flooded to and from, driving them ever further into the heights of ecstasy. The storm, like perceiving their rising charge entered to its climax too, releasing its fury with a tremendous lightning bolt, going straight into the conjoined Seekers. The bolt of electricity cursed through their overheated systems like the most exquisite of overloads, the strongest climax that either of them ever felt, the absolute peak of passion, lust and love. Twin screams released the feeling into the storm, into the comm-line, into the Trine bond – and on the ground Skyraider shuddered with the intensity of it too, just able to bite back his own moan.

Their afterglow was cut short by the still pouring rain that cooled them down fast; but in a way it was fortunate that it did. So strong was their overload that if not for the cold, they would've fallen offline, crashing into the ground still in jet-form, still connected. But as it happened, they regained altitude just in time, shakily landing close to the Ark, transforming and falling into a hugging heap with still-smoking joints and weakened limbs, kissing vigorously. The storm, giving out its rage was moving away too, the rain lessening, the light strengthening again around them, making it easier for Skyraider and Ratchet to find the pair and herd them into the Ark, and to the med-bay to check them over.

**Skyraider**

After a cursory examination it became clear to Ratchet that they had almost no damage at all, only a few minor relays that got blown and an understandable, if alarming total depletion of their systems; but it was enough for him to start one of his famous tirades. It was the type about irresponsibility, capriciousness and general ignorance of danger that he could go on with for breems without repeating himself, ending in a firm warning teetering on a threat:

"I won't ever want to see any such idiocy again, not if you don't want to be reformatted as toasters!"

Now, Skyraider wasn't a most patient Seeker ever created and some things don't just go and change in a mech. While Stormbringer and Bumblebee were both tired and sated enough from their flight, and in general more indulgent to let the medic rant - he wasn't, and as the medic worked up himself into a rare mood, he did so too. When the other two saw him standing up, straightening to his full height, hitching his wings impossibly high, where they imperceptibly vibrated with restrained anger and the silvery optics smoldered with an inner fire – they knew that he's got to the end of his self-restraint. His voice was low and definitely angry with a growling undertone as he started to answer to the medic.

"I will not have you speaking in such way to us about our traditions." - Fleetingly it flitted through his mind how much better this new voice was to show anger – the screeching shrieks could just never covey such impressive rage. – "You should shut up, go and find the difference between concern and abuse, because apparently it is not clear to you right now!"

Ratchet was momentarily speechless. It hasn't happened for eons that some mech would talk back to him after his lecture, and frankly, he didn't remember anyone to reproach him for one such since the beginning of his career. But this Seeker… he did. And he suddenly had to face with not one, but three riled up fliers, as at the first sign of argument, the other two stood up and stonily quiet, anger bubbling just under the surface they took their place by Skyraider's wings, supporting him without question. And these were not naïve younglings like the Aerialbots…

"How dare you question me? I have to put the lot of you together every time you go and scrap yourselves! Just wait and see the next time you come back with injuries…"

"And? What will happen? Will you not do your duty, due to petty personal differences? Forego your oath to heal?"

"No… never that. But… it is also my duty to prevent injuries. Such activities that you did fell under that category." – he was calming down, starting to perceive that maybe, just maybe this time he did blow the thing slightly out of proportion; but still not ready to give up and let the Seekers have the last word.

"Or so you think. Do you know Seeker physiology deeply enough to make that judgment? Seekers have been doing this for far longer than your function. You are questioning our traditions, medic. I warn you: don't do that."

"Traditions don't automatically excuse stupidity. While I give you that Seeker frames can apparently handle such charge it is still dangerous."

"We, Seekers don't live pampered lives; never had, never will. We face danger, accept it and conquer it. Don't try to judge us from your grounder viewpoint."

"That's just mystifying…"

"No. Flying is inherently more dangerous than driving on the ground – and I don't even mention that we were built for war, which is danger itself. If we want to survive, we must face it – we cannot avoid it like you'd want us."

"He's right, you know?" – neither of them noticed Sunstreaker entering the med bay, back from patrol with a slight dent, not knowing what happened, just hearing the last of the argument. – "The same thing we've always tried to tell you after your lectures about Jet Judo; we are frontliners, we cannot - and don't even want to - avoid danger, because we were built to take it."

Outmatched and outnumbered, Ratchet couldn't do anything but grumble and shoo them all out of his med-bay, his damaged pride not particularly wanting to see any Seekers any time soon. Which was fine with them too, the Seekers in question agreed on their way back to their quarters; they didn't want to see the medic soon either.

Skyraider, as he stepped into his room, immediately noticed that something has changed again, meaning another visitor to his domain. Because he has changed the lock on his door since last time, it caused him even more frustration to have someone get in and out without a problem… but he was curious about the present left, so put aside his anger for a while. After locating the huge, beautifully etched platter, heaped with various energon goodies he decided to put the anger aside for good; this was one reason he'd gladly give his door code to any visitor, anytime, anywhere. Not many mechs knew that the formerly feared Air Commander, the unpredictable Starscream had the Cybertronian equivalent of a very-very sweet tooth - but he wasn't going to complain that this part of his secret was let out.

As he sampled the delicious confections Skyraider's mind turned towards his situation among the Autobots. It was curious, he mused, that although he'd fully expected to regret coming over in a short time, it actually turned out far better than his expectations. Obviously, it had to do a lot with not having to contend with prejudice that their real identities would've certainly brought about. But actually, he thought picking up a delicious-looking rust stick, he felt better than ever since his Academy orns and that included the time with Skyfire too. Here, he was more or less free to do whatever he wanted, with fulfilling duties and an appreciative milieu that gave positive feedback too after a job well done – he never even knew how much he missed that with Megatron… Even controlling his temper was less of a challenge than he expected it to be; the developing trine bond with his trinemates' calming influence and stable support really helped a lot. Skyraider hoped that the attitude that he gave into the Trine, the self-assurance and confidence could help nearly as much to them as they did to him.

He really must stop sampling these delectable sweetbolts before they upset his fuel tank, he thought - but determination could go only so far when faced with such treats. Besides he started to feel overcharged, which was interesting as he didn't have any high-grade since the welcome-party and it didn't help him to resist the temptation, not a single bit. Sideswipe. The answer was suddenly obvious in his CPU, the fragger somehow drugged the energon treats for some reason…

"_Storm, Bee, come to m' room…something is wrong…"_

His trinemates wasted no time getting there and in a klik the two worried faces bent over him – when has he sat down onto the ground? – looking him over and asking worriedly.

"Sky', what happened?"

"En'rgon-goodies… drugged… ate 'em…" – he had real trouble to speak clearly.

Stormbringer stepped to the table, where the huge platter still held a few of the remaining confections, and selected one to try, halving it with Bumblebee, smirking as soon as his sensors identified the components.

"It is not drugged, Sky, don't worry. Just some high-grade filling." – taking another one, he hummed appreciatively and continued – "They are very good. Amazing really. Just asking… exactly how many you ate…?"

"Didna count 'em… frag…" – Skyraider was getting more incoherent by the klik as the high grade took effect but he couldn't blame the twins for it, not really – the sweets were just too good for that. Fragging Sideswipe, he deserves something for this… if only he could decide whether it was beating him to slag or 'face him into next orn…? He dimly felt the arms around him, laughs resonating through touching plates, his trinemates drawing him up, onto a berth and into the safety of their warm hugs. Happy and content, he nestled into their warmth and love - but went offline soon after.

**Silverstorm**

"What the Pit… build it." – a resigned voice echoed in the room from the silvery-white Seeker.

"But it is an…"

"No, don't finish that sentence. I know. You know. We all know."

"Waste energon for this…"

"Just build it. It is the last time." – Whipping Star's whispering voice sounded like omen in the quiet of the Constructicon repair bay. Everyone present turned towards the usually inconspicuous black-and-copper Seeker with a surprise close to shock. He spoke aloud for the grand total of two times since their arrival to Earth, first to swear fealty to Megatron, then a single word to Soundwave when asked about something. Many thought that he couldn't speak, and those who knew otherwise were betting on what and why he would say next. The listening Constructicons couldn't help but wonder at the strange harmonics, the almost prophetic quality of his voice and not just one of them got thinking exactly why the Seeker was not talking if he could.

Scrapper slapped down the datapad on his workbench. He was angry at them, angry at the world, and at the moment furious at Megatron for such an idiotic design yet again that he had to build. True, since the deactivation of Bonecrusher, all Constructicons seemed permanently angry – it was the way they showed the loss of the gestalt brother, the broken bond. But Scrapper managed to be extra frustrated whenever Megatron came out with his newest idea, and Silverstorm wasn't even surprised – he might not have been an engineer, but for this contraption, common sense was enough to be completely nonplussed.

"Fine… it is no more useless than the last several I guess." – he turned away from the datapad with a visible disgust, slyly glancing at the Seeker again. - "At least we got some troops from Cybertron. How do you think Shockwave got news that we desperately needed them? Somehow I can't see Megatron asking him for help, do you?"

"It doesn't seem likely indeed. Maybe through the Autobots…? He does have spies in most places."

"Well, he'd better hiding it from them – his situation is not much better there than ours. If Ultra Magnus gets wind of this troop transfer he won't waste time exploiting it. On top of the energon shortage it is just too good a chance for him."

"Why are you telling it to me exactly? It is not that I have any contact to Shockwave…"

"I would've sworn that you do… some things are just… you know, coincidental then?"

"Maybe… maybe not." – Silverstorm didn't want to let the Constructicons into his secrets, but if they thought that he had some extra influence, the more they'd be willing to listen later, when things came to a head. Scrapper just had to deal with it for the time.

**Skyraider**

When he came to again, the other two was gone, leaving only the fuzzy good mood behind them and the platter with the remaining treats. Since he miraculously had no processor-ache, like every other times after having high-grade, Skyraider decided to finally find the twins and… no, not tearing off an arm or two, not even from Sideswipe, he would refrain from that; but talk to them about… well, about things. Some… things. He had to admit that he found their approach the most to his liking – try as he might, he couldn't be objective about a heap of energon goodies, it was just an ace that the other suitors failed to trump so far. Hehh… the word itself 'suitors' was just preposterous. Or wasn't it? Nobody even dared to court him in the last few hundred vorns and neither had he seen any other Seeker whom he would.

Skyraider decided that no matter who dared or not to court him, he would still have to talk to the twins and left his room to seek the duo out. Fortunately they were not in the rec room, but in their own; for this talk he really preferred some privacy. Once there though, he was starting to get second thoughts whether it was a good idea or not to visit the lions in their den… the human nature program's scenario was not a totally inappropriate simile here, he thought with a small snicker. Would he tame the lions or would they eat him, those were the questions only; but after the lesson he gave to the medic about facing the danger, he couldn't very well back off.

Sideswipe opened the door and seeing who stood at the doorway he couldn't help but grin hugely and invite him inside. Sunstreaker, apparently working on a drawing, spared only a glance and a growled acknowledgement to him and he wasn't insulted by the apparent neglect; he knew from Bumblebee that when the yellow twin started creating something he basically closeted himself into a private world. Artists are a strange kind, he knew anyway. Sideswipe gestured the Seeker to a small table, where he hurriedly swept down the assorted junk from a chair, grinning and babbling apologies about the mess. He was downright nervous and definitely trying to hide it.

"Hi! Glad that you decided to visit us…"

"Hnh… I believe I've found some things in my room that were left there by a mysterious admirer." – Skyraider grinned at the sheepish-looking red twin. – "I came to enquire whether it was either of you leaving them there by any chance?"

"By no chance, but it was me." – Sideswipe answered flippantly. – "We hope that you liked the gifts..."

"Ohh, rest assured, I did. It even made up for a certain prank earlier…"

"Uhh… sorry about that… it wasn't… I mean… not you…"

Sunstreaker's helm bobbed up from behind his easel with a small frown on his faceplates. – "Sides, you'd better not to dig that hole you are in any deeper."

Skyraider grinned at their expressions – "Take that advice, I suggest. And they say that you are more adept at being sociable?"

"If pranks count, definitely!"

"They don't always do… they're fine, if you want to annoy people. But most often presents go a longer way."

At that both twins perked up a bit; Sideswipe visibly and obviously, while Sunstreaker's stance, or as much as he could see of him, also signaled more attention than before. He basically stopped his painting and although remained where he was, decided to take part in the conversation. After all, it was not just Sides' who was interested.

"I wonder if I could make a painting of you one orn…?"

_::Do you think it is too early to make a move on him?::_

_::Frag, I have no idea. Can't read his wings, no matter what Bumblebee said about it being easy.::_

Skyraider was surprised at the question but flattered none the less. A painting of him…hmm, it sounded good. – "I think… I think I'd like that…" – what he didn't know was why his voice suddenly became weak, small… happy? Were they influencing him this much? Why two frontliners have to look so… hot…? And damn, they know it too…

_::Maybe you can try… you're close enough to make it look accidental…::_

_::Yeah, and if not, he can trash me. Thanks a lot bro'…"_

_::Afraid…?::_

_::NEVER!::_

The lately silent Sideswipe unobtrusively tilted his chair backwards until he leaned on his berth, bringing his servo closer to the wings, so far calmly shushing back and forth, saying nothing, only picking up a bit at the Seeker's last sentence. The movement nicely brought the white-gold metal plating under his questing servo and he cautiously stroke along its surface, instinctly avoiding the fixtures until he could be sure that the reaction wasn't negative. But it was far better than he expected, the wing almost nestled itself into his servo and the Seeker was… was he purring? Sideswipe's inner temperature just got up a few degrees at the sound.

"That's a good way to go too…" – Skyraider murmured in a suddenly deepening, throaty voice as he felt the gentle caress on his wing that fortunately got no recollection of Jet Judo whatsoever, but which made his core heating up just a bit in anticipation. It was a nice touch, not demanding, not presuming, just making him feel good…

Sunstreaker ducked back behind the easel, ripping off the half-ready picture, slapping an empty sheet on it and started sketching furiously. Those darkening, storm-grey coloured optics… he glanced at the duo occasionally, wanting to both join them and finish the sketch at least before…

…before the Decepticon alarm sounded its unwanted, unliked, annoying and frustrating shriek all through the Ark.

"..frag."

"Slag…"

"Damn…"

"We'd better go." – Skyraider never completely forgot responsibility, no officer could do that, not even during the most pleasurable activity. Picking up themselves, fans cooling their frames they headed out to where the Autobots were already collecting, getting ready for a battle. He picked up the databurst from Bumblebee with the battle plans and they were out, jumping into the air as soon as they cleared the entrance.

**Bumblebee**

"We know the target beforehand this time, and the humans made a few nasty surprises for the Cons as well. They are more than happy to contribute, even at the cost of some buildings." – Prowl was completely serious and professional, battle computer running the scenarios, not sparing a single glance to Bumblebee as he briefed the officers of the upcoming battle. – "We also know that Shockwave sent some troops from Cybertron, to counter their losses of the gestalt combiners. Therefore we will use Superion as a unit, while the Seekers will provide cover and deal with the Con fliers. We only wait the Decepticons to make their move."

"We'll do our best of course." – Bumblebee could be just as professional when the situation demanded.

"What do we know about the extras?" – Jazz asked, just as serious as Prowl, intently going over the datapad with the info about the stolen plans.

"We don't know any details, only that they are 'average fighting troops' according to our source. We expect normal mechs, grounders."

"Will it affect the situation in Cybertron?"

"We hope that it will. For this, it is imperative that we keep those extras here, so Shockwave is in a more vulnerable position."

"I don't think the Cons will stand for long here – we contained them lately and they are practically starving, which means Shockwave's forces aren't that good either."

"We must not underestimate them. Their forces are weakening and I can even see some chances to end this war in a near future, but only if we continue as relentlessly as we have done so far." – Prime was even more serious, trying to make that point go through to each officer. Too many times he saw someone with a good chance to fall because he thought the victory attained before it was won.

"By the way, do we have any plans in case the war really ends?" – the question that Jazz asked was not one they contemplated ever. There was just… never a real chance to end it, therefore it was never important enough to talk about.

"Some, that I know of… from long time ago, when the war was thought to be a short affair with a decisive victory. Mainly it concerned returning to the old system and locking up any surviving Decepticons for good." – Prowl answered with a distinct distaste in his voice. Those plans were made by pompous Senators who were totally blind to the existing faults and unfairness of the system and consequently had no inclination to change it either.

"But that is… I mean that's plain wrong. I don't mean the Cons are right but the old system failed – it couldn't handle the energon shortages, the caste system, the preprograms, the city-states, the Seekers… nothing really." – Bumblebee was not a theoretician, but he wasn't blind either; and constant contact with the former Con Seekers made him aware of many things that Decepticons had as real grievances about the old way of things in Cybertron.

"I do have a different system in mind to take care of those points – we discussed it some with Ultra Magnus and any of you are welcome with any input in regards to it. But that is for another time; now we have a battle to plan." – They all trusted Optimus Prime enough to put the matter aside and go back to the plans for the upcoming battle.

Again Prowl took over the discussion: - "I'm distributing the proposed battle plan to each of you; if you have any observation, it is the time to make it."

With no objections, the meeting was adjourned and the Decepticon alarm soon sounded. The plans in place, they were ready to roll out in record time…

**Skyraider**

He loved this battle for some reason. It was oddly the same as usual, but still different from any such engagements. They were winning of course, lately that sorry excuse for a commander couldn't manage to put in a successful raid even; only the energon that they allowed the Seekers to take was their haul and nothing else. Sowing discord into the Con ranks, he laughed in himself, just a bit irked by the silver-white Seeker who assumed **his** title for now. Let him. He was useful and helpful too; the info and the insight he provided was pretty valuable for the Autobots, plenty worth the promises and the energon they took.

Most of the Con forces had been trapped and many injured by the booby traps that the humans set for them in the buildings that were their targets, and so, despite of the numbers again being on their side, the battle was definitely going to the Autobot side; not only with the surprises that awaited them, but the Cons strangely seemed to be… halfsparked, almost apathetic, not really into the battle at all. Glancing around he saw the twins easily grounding Thrust, laughing at the Conehead's miserable expression, while Superion was making short work of the triplechangers – and he was secretly glad that the Aerialbot youngster couldn't make any foolishly reckless maneuver to impress him.

Skyraider shot another pair of missiles at Megatron, just to annoy him; they wouldn't damage him seriously, not immediately anyway. But he learned a few things since his defection and one of those were to cooperate, to acknowledge if a job was too difficult for any one mech. It was the hardest thing for him to learn, he mused as he softened up the tyrant's armor with the constant explosions. He taunted the gunformer verbally too, eons of creative insults came to his vocalizer with ease, as he spewed them together with his weapons fire. Yeah, there was definitely something in that psychological warfare Silverstorm insisted on, as he watched Megatron's faceplates contort and roar in helpless rage.

Well, not totally helpless, he thought, as he rolled to avoid the plasma cannon's discharge, the three of them springing apart from formation in a precise pattern, not yet anyway. Skyraider left him for a bit to stew in his frustration and they went to find another Con or six to play with. Not for long though, after seeing the Prime approaching Megatron they circled back, uncontested in the sky by this time, to strafe him again, to bother him with taunts and pepper him with missiles; every little damage was a bonus, every bit of his fury and rage played to their advantage. They all waited for the sign Silverstorm said they would recognize – the swords.

**Megatron**

That damned Seeker was fast becoming almost as annoying as the late Starscream. He dared to bother him with those puny missiles, knowing that they would never crack his armor, only annoy him with the explosions; and his mouth was fouler than that thrice-damned Seeker, even though his voice at least was far nicer. He was riling him up, no mistake there, and damned well succeeding too. The warlord's red-hot anger has never been far from the surface, and lately it was all too easy to bring it out until it completely flooded his thought process. Not that it has been a problem, in a battle one can operate fairly well in berserker mode – best it not be the supreme commander though, but if there is at least one calm presence beside, like Soundwave, it still works.

That molten fury was flowing over his meta now, making thoughts go slower, making rationale take a back seat as he tried to shoot those damned Seekers off from the sky. They were fast and good though and albeit they flew cowardly from his wrath, they came back again and again to taunt him. He was roaring at them, the slinking cowards who didn't dare to fight with him openly. Nobody dared he thought, dazed with his own fury, he was the best, the strongest, the ultimate commander… Megatron didn't notice the ever widening circle that formed around him, his own Decepticons just as afraid of his uncontrolled rage as the Autobots, leaving him alone in his frustrated anger. Alone, that is, with the maddening Seekers riling him up even further.

He was working up such a fury that it totally swamped his processor, deleting all thoughts, until he almost heard the snap of something giving way. Suddenly in his meta things started to transform, reality altered in the beating heat and haze of the sun coupled with his own hot anger until the overworked vents couldn't cool his innards down; the mechs around him became shouting and clapping spectators, the buildings around changed into the magnificent structure of the Arena, the dirt underfoot the metallic shavings of its floor… and Megatron roared his challenge into the arena, daring anyone to come and try to beat him. The cannon on his arm was forgotten as the twin forged swords appeared in his servos that haven't seen the sunlight since he last fought in the Kaon Arena. The warlord, the tyrant, the Commander all disappeared and the once glorious gladiator rose again in his place. There was no war any more, no annoying Seekers, no shortage of energon, no troubles, commands and problems – only life or death in the Pit.

A mech's shape suddenly rose in front of him, drawing his focus inward, heightening his senses and he threw a toothy, predatory smile at the bold one; someone took the challenge and dared to try his luck against him. Fool. But perhaps a fool that will last a bit against his might. He flashed his blades at the opponent in a gesture of challenging salute and he answered with showing weapons of his own; the axe and the sword burned bright with the inner fire of harnessed energon. Megatron rejoiced inwards; there weren't many who dared to wield an energon axe, one of the most difficult hand-weapons to learn. It will be a good fight after all. The tyrant was far too deeply gone in his own madness to notice the two armies that formed a circle around them; the battle has all but ground to a halt as they noticed and instinctly felt the coming duel as a decisive one.

Megatron attacked fast and furious, like a storm with one sword, feinting with the other to get inside his opponent's defenses. But he wasn't a beginner either and blocked both, easily getting out of his reach with a twist of his nimble frame and struck back immediately with the axe. He deflected the blow, rolling with its force and coming up a few paces away glowering at the bright colours of his challenger. The first blows have been exchanged, styles measured up, strengths calculated – they were ready for the real start of the fight. They started to circle each other, a glancing blow or two flashing from time to time as they waited to the other to make a mistake – or an opening to use.

He put the molten rage in his processor to good use; it made his moves random, incalculable and inexpectable; but the other still countered his moves like he knew the silver gladiator, like he was familiar somehow with his moves, his feints, his tricks. He knew him too, but the anger that helped him to move was against him to recognize the other; no matter, he thought dazed, thinking process sluggish and hazy, he would win no matter who the other was. Small wounds started to leak energon in bright ribbons on their frames as the moves became more and more dangerous, the weapons less able to be deflected cleanly. His opponent was better than simply good and the gladiator's spark rejoiced to the true challenge to his abilities. He growled in a sudden pain as the bright, orangeishly smoldering axe nicked his helm dangerously close to his right optic; and it caused the sensors in it to flare white with the too high heat far too close. It proved to be a costly mistake as he lost his vision on that side, just for a nanoklik, but when the sword rose unseen, he was late to move out from its path. Then the bright pain cut into his wrist joint, neatly severing the servo that still held fast onto one of his swords.

The pain rose to an excruciating level before it cut out completely and he rolled away, afar from the already descending axe, rising, growling as he inspected the damage. The main energon line was sealed, the very nature of his opponent's weapons melted the tube shut it with its burning heat, but the stump was useless in the rest of the fight. He has to change tactics or he could be in trouble – and that is unacceptable, the gladiator snarls to himself. His opponent is faster but weaker, albeit only marginally; and he already possesses a servo's worth of advantage. How far Megatron's mind fell into his own fevered madness is proven by the fact that the gladiator, whom he is now doesn't even realize the plasma cannon still on his arm, his most dangerous weapon, even as he stops and tries to collect his wits about him.

He lunges suddenly, straight at his opponent, not feinting or tricking this time, trying to use his greater mass and strength against the other's nimbleness in a close quarter combat. His sword connects and the other cannot deflect it fully, its impetus is so great, the driving force behind too much for the glowing sword; it breaks, explodes, the smoldering shards embedding themselves into both their frames, burning through armor as they go, causing new ribbons of fluids to line their frames. Megatron pulls on the sword and twists, it cleaves through armor, a servo for a servo and some more, but he cannot deflect the axe coming down on him from the other side, his stumped arm only slows it down as its thuds into his chest sidewise, buckling the already weakened, brittle armor there that explodes in another shower of metallic shards. He falls on his back like a broken colossus that he is and curses the Seeker with all his Pit-damned missiles for it, even as the pain returns with full force all over his frame, tearing a hoarse cry from his vocalizer.

He tries to get up, to move, to counter, to lift an arm, TO FIGHT, but it is no use, he gets only as far up as his knees, his arm weaker than rubber as he lifts the remaining sword one last time. Damned if he dies on his knees and pulls sheer determination out of some corner of his processor, the other is mocking him surely, letting the wounded gladiator rise for the last time. He doesn't notice the deadly quiet in the beating sunshine, his energon buzzes in his audials, his spark thuds in his ruined chest, his joints crackle and crunch as he moves. The raised sword is beaten aside easily, the flaming axe draws a deadly arc into the air; he sees the movement in the sudden clarity of his last nanokliks as it rises and descends. The weight and the exploding pain throws him backwards again but the burning shame of loosing lasts only until he feels the ground again under his back.

The brightness of the alien sun blinds his optics until only dark shadows move in the periphery of his remaining vision. The pain of his wounds and that of his defeat is cursing in his systems, choking his thoughts and voice. Alien rocks bite into his back as he lays there, helpless to move any more. There is no more will to stand up, no more strength to fight, no more determination to be had. The silver armor is broken, coated in energon, oil and dust from this alien earth. Faint twitches signal that his limbs still have some power, but control of them has been taken from him. The forged blades lay dimmed of their proud, dangerous shine with the dust of the alien planet. Even the rage is gone, the red-hot anger, the fury that burned in him lately is not helping him any more. The exposed, damaged spark flutters, its angry red glare dimming fretfully. Sight is gone, hearing follows, the feeling of his extremities goes next. The pain concentrates as the peripherals fall out of his sensor-net, his field draws inwards, into his core. When nothing else remains to support it, the spark defiantly flares once – and extinguishes.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: before anyone asks, no, Silverstorm didn't drug Megatron or anything of the like; it was purely psychological, the way they collectively managed to make him loose his sanity for good.


	16. Talks

**Note**: from Chapter 10 onwards Skyraider = ex!Starscream; Stormbringer = ex!Thundercracker and to reiterate, Bumblebee = ex!Skywarp albeit a little differently.

"normal speech"

"_comm"_

_::bond::_

* * *

><p><strong>16. Talks<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Skyraider<strong>

Megatron has left no famous last words behind - perhaps fittingly, as he was more a mech of actions than words. Skyraider stared with turbulent emotions at the still, broken frame of the mech who defined his existence for so long. He remembered their first meeting, the excitement and honour that he felt at being chosen; the burning determination that the former gladiator inspired in him to set things right, to bring down the old and corrupt system; the first vorns when he was still looking up to him, learning from him, idolizing him; the slow disillusionment as he turned away from their ideas and became obsessed, mad, paranoid and tyrannical; the end when he was trying to get rid of him but failed always… but in the end he felt no pity or sorry for the tyrant, who brought his fate onto himself and with his actions more than deserved what he got.

All mechs watched the fight and its end in deep silence. There was no sound other than the two of them made, no movement to help or hinder either. It was their fight, a fitting duel to end the war that the two of them started. All mechs present had their memories of the fallen Megatron, all mechs, be them Autobots or Decepticons remembered to him for a few precious kliks as the former Lord High Protector, a warrior, a hero and a charismatic leader. The Decepticons remembered him also as a cruel tyrant, a mad warlord, a ruthless leader, a paranoid wreck. One of the mechs, standing in the middle of the circle, over his broken body remembered him as brother too – with him deactivated he could do that again.

The Autobots started to hustle, glancing questioning to each other, watching the Decepticon half of the circle, clearly awaiting to their leader, Optimus Prime to give an order, to make them known what how he wanted things to progress. The frontliners moved first, assessing the situation, covering the weaker bots, Prowl automatically run the scenarios already, the snipers unobtrusively retreated into more secure positions – a well-trained army, he noted with satisfaction, the Cons still just milled around aimlessly, while they were already prepared to react to whatever could come. On a sudden thought, he moved closer to the body to check it for any surprises; he knew quite well how effective a little hologram-generator could be and wanted to make sure. But he was deactivated for sure, beyond the possibility of resurrection.

Surprised by a sudden movement, Skyraider almost laughed aloud when a winged mech trotted up to him and with a defiant expression threw a few mangled Con rifles at his feet – it was like a barbaric offering out of the historical datapads or a sparkling-story hero trying to impress his beloved. Air Raid was almost beyond cute at this klik, and despite of everything that has just happened and all the emotional rollercoaster he just went through, he couldn't help but praise the youngster; and damned if he cared that it would just encourage him again. He would care about that later, while right now the young jet can strut around and bask in the accolade of the Seeker whom he covets. Suppressing a few amused chuckles, Stormbringer stepped closer with Bumblebee at tow, rescuing him before the rest of the Aerialbots turned up too.

**Silverstorm**

Soundwave moved first, stepping into the focus of the Decepticon semicircle, for once bypassing his vocal filter for better understanding. Good. Silverstorm vividly remembered the reaction of the mech when he suggested him that bit. He seriously didn't understand the reason for doing so.

"Decepticons. I am assuming command of the Decepticon army." – he looked around, seeking out each pair of red optics on his side. – "If anyone has a challenge to make, make it now."

Silverstorm wasted no time to move behind him, to the traditional position of the SIC, with an apologetic glance at the Autobot Seekers. Soundwave needed his Seekers' support more, much as he would have liked to stand with the rest of the Seekerkin. The Decepticon army cannot break apart after Megatron's death, they cannot afford an unconditional defeat and whatever the Autobots would mete out for them. They had to stay together and work for a peace that would be acceptable for both sides. Only by remaining a threat could they achieve a favorable treaty, contradictory as that may sound. He was glad to see Onslaught taking the other position, scowling angrily still, but somewhat less so than before; the mech was intelligent enough to understand what was going on and gave up his resentment. The rest of the Cons were dazed, unsure but quite meekly gathered around them, no mech offering a challenge for the leadership.

Soundwave was apparently satisfied with the reaction – or lack of thereof – from his quite shell-shocked army and turned to Optimus Prime, standing in the middle of the circle still, watching the matters unfold themselves.

"Lord Prime, I offer a ceasefire for the next ten orns, if it is acceptable to you."

"I accept it in one condition; that we meet before the end of it for further negotiations."

"That is acceptable." – Soundwave nodded slightly to the Prime and turned towards his side of the circle – "Decepticons retreat!"

Silverstorm never before was so glad to hear this sentence.

**Skyraider**

They landed by the Ark, still a bit shocked from the events that just happened, unsure as to how to behave in the new circumstances. Well, Stormbringer and Bumblebee appeared to be already over it, if their stance was any indication; love is something even war sometimes takes the back seat to. He was surprised by another shape landing beside him, but turning that way, he saw Skyfire on the ground, already trying to distance himself from the jet. Suddenly he felt sorry for the big shuttle; after all, other than being around to remind him to things he'd rather forget, he did nothing wrong, and Sideswipe's humiliating pranks must have been an awful feeling for the socially quite inept shuttle. Hesitantly, a bit unsure what he wanted to say, he called out to him, before he could disappear into the Ark.

"Skyfire, please!"

The red-white shuttle turned back with an almost nervous expression, doubts clearly written on his honest, open faceplates.

"Yes…. Skyraider?"

"I, ummm… I just wanted to say sorry." – he grimaced sharply, wings flicking with a sudden motion. Apologizing was quite a bit harder than he'd thought. It cut deep into his still not quite settled self-esteem. – "For ignoring you, I mean. It wasn't… fair from me. I should have at least listened to you."

Well, at least he surprised Skyfire with it; from the look of him quite so. It took him almost a breem to collect himself enough for an answer.

"I, uhhh… I… thank you. I… just wanted to talk things over again… and… and I'd still like that if we can."

There was one thing Skyraider definitely didn't want to; the shuttle to regain the determination to pursue him. As far as he was concerned that particular past was closed and he wanted it to remain so. Besides he didn't want the other Autobots to listen in to their conversation; for which he waved the shuttle a bit to the side, a bit further from the main entrance, shooing the questioning looking twins with the others too with a promise to explain later.

"Yeah, I understood that much; but it is not possible as long as you still hold some misconceptions about me… well, about us."

A new emotion appeared on Skyfire's face; he clearly didn't know what he was talking about and the bemusement was clearly written on his posture. Which was exactly their problem…

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"Okay. Two things. Well, before anything, I want to state that I don't hate you. But. First of all, no matter what you want to believe, I am not that young, naïve Seeker that you knew at the Academy and I will never again be the one either. All our meetings since you have tried to see me for something I am not any more. You keep wanting to turn back time and have us as we were back then, but a lot of vorns and events happened since that changed us. Greatly." – he stopped for a klik, checking how Skyfire was taking it. It was almost a mistake… how a huge shuttle can look like a whipped cur was beyond Skyraider, but it almost, almost crumbled his resolve to be stern and unemotional. It was a real challenge to keep his wings stern and solid. But he had to say this. He cannot satisfy Skyfire's wish to ignore whatever happened and turn back time. He had to wake up the shuttle before he completely buried himself in his daydreams. – "You must wake up from your dreams of the past and move on with your life in the present."

"I don't… I thought… I…" – he gave up trying to speak.

Secondly, and I am sorry that I have to say it in this manner – I am not '_your Star'_, not any more, besides the fact that I always loathed that possessive endearment. It was all right back then, for love softened its edge; but I don't want to hear it any more for reasons that have nothing to do with secrecy. I hope I don't have to spell it out more."

Aww… he looked broken now. Skyraider knew he was a bit hard on him, but he didn't say anything that Skyfire couldn't have seen for himself – had he opened his optics and applied his processor to it. It is inevitably hard, sometimes even cruel to sober up people who deluded themselves into a pleasant fantasy and while he had the necessary detachment to do it, he lacked the compassion to comfort after the shock. He simply didn't know what to do…

"Look… just think of it, okay? I don't hate you, no matter what you thought. And I won't ignore you any more, that was, well, my bad."

"Yeah…" – Skyfire looked sparkbroken, hardly able to mumble even that single word.

Well, that was not the most enthusiastic answer and he ventured a single servo to cautiously stroke the flat of his wing – he just hoped that the shuttle wouldn't take it for more than a friendly touch… Skyfire at first almost jerked at the touch, but in a klik a glimmer of gratefulness appeared in his blue optics. He tried to collect himself too, almost visibly forcing himself to calm down.

"I understand. I will… I will think of what you said. I'm… I'm sorry if I have presumed… and to me it is less of a past than to you. But I'll try to… forget it…?"

"It's all right… we can fix this now, you know? I don't mind being friends, working together… again. Just… give it some time, OK?"

Well, maybe hope goes further than gestures – Skyfire perked up a bit more upon hearing that, and Skyraider saw it best if they finished this awkward conversation in a more or less high note.

**Stormbringer**

The mood was – to put it mildly – euphoric once they got back to the Ark and had come to grips with what happened. It was not quite the end of the war, but they all felt that it was closer than ever, with the Cons fast going downhill and loosing Megatron; and once the assorted bots got their various duties done, cleaned up and attended the necessary repairs, they all collected in the rec room for an impromptu victory party. Well, almost all, except the officers, whom the Prime asked for a meeting to discuss the possibilities; but they joined the party too a bit later. They even toasted the Prime who couldn't escape in time and for that effort were treated by a rare occasion of Optimus Prime being unable to say anything in embarrassment. Sideswipe later swore to everyone that he must have blushed under the facemask too.

Skyraider came in late and joined him for a little while; Stormbringer was glad to hear that he sort of made up with Skyfire, so they wouldn't have to cover him from the shuttle's enquiries any more. They shared a good-natured laugh at the antics of the young Aerialbot, Air Raid and started discussing what to do if the war really ended. The main question was of course to go back to their former identities or not; there were arguments for and against too and they couldn't decide it yet. Much would depend on the exact details of the peace treaty; their Con personas would be heavily implicated if the Autobots decided to keep grievances, not to mention the inevitable prejudice. Besides, if this thing of Skyraider with the twins became serious, it would inevitably mean the secret to be out…

They were quickly joined by their table with the aforementioned twins, who were almost flaunting their right to be on Skyraider's sides; Sideswipe producing high-grade cubes to celebrate and energon treats too with a huge grin, assuring them of their innocent fillings. Skyraider frowned at him, but Stormbringer saw that it was just a mock glare and his trine leader actually enjoyed the company of the two frontliners – he could never lie with his wings that were steadily fluttering, signaling happiness and contentment to anyone who could read them. They snarked and smarmed in turns, servos wandering over chassis and wings, soon becoming basically oblivious to the mechs around them.

They all looked and felt like some huge weight was suddenly taken off of them and caused them to overflow with bubbling happiness; and not only the mechs at their table, but all the other Autobots too. It was amazing how Megatron's deactivation affected all of them – or rather it was not surprising, considering how much the former gladiator influenced all their lives. His own too… it was a long way to come from the determination through the doubts into the acceptance that was so easy, so effortless; Stormbringer almost never felt himself so much at peace, without his ever-present inner conflicts since… since Bumblebee, since the defection, since the trine renewing itself.

He glanced at the yellow Seeker, happily nestled to his side, listening and laughing at the twins' antics as they entertained Skyraider. He used to love Skywarp, yes, he had no doubts about it. But back then he always had his questions, his doubts and the black and purple Seeker could never alleviate them, only make him forget for some time with his pranks and cheerfulness. But Bumblebee… they could really talk, discuss things, go over his thoughts, doubts and solve them, soothe them, dispel them... It wasn't that he was more intelligent than Skywarp, although that was true too; rather he had empathy, an ability to understand his problems and help to defuse them. Yes, Stormbringer thought watching him still, the yellow Seeker was someone he could bond with and live with as long as they functioned; and he felt no shame for the mushy effusiveness. As soon as the peace was done he would ask him. Or even if it didn't come about.

"By the way Sky'…" – he spoke up suddenly, interrupting the cheerful mood – "You should speak with the Prime. You know, about the peace. He should have our input before he goes to talk with Soundwave."

"I have. And I will some more. But he already asked me to be present at the negotiations." – Skyraider answered him, but he looked like not really caring about the Prime or any serious topics for that matter; if anything he was soon going to escape the party or be 'faced right there… albeit that would make a fine spectacle.

**Silverstorm**

They retreated back to the Nemesis with the air of utter defeat. There were no words spoken aloud on the way back, almost no movements in the tower lift on the way down, and once in the base everyone sneaked back to their rooms to deal with the shock. Soundwave made a short announcement in the comm system, to notify them that he would discuss the situation with Shockwave and as soon as it was done a group meeting would be held. In itself it was a novelty; Megatron never bothered to announce his intentions to the troops, sometimes not even to his officers either.

"Silverstorm, Onslaught: remain."

"Are you gonna talk to Shockwave?"

"Affirmative."

"Do you require input or just our presence?"

"Input required: not. Accepted: yes."

Soundwave turned towards the communications board, awaiting the requested connection to come through, contemplating the possibilities. While he was perfectly comfortable with a possible peace with the Autobots – provided they could achieve suitable conditions which he was sure of – it would not be easy to convince Shockwave of the same or the rest of the Cybertron officers. A lot depended on whether the cyclops accepted him as supreme commander or choose to challenge him. When the board beeped with the incoming transmission, he turned towards the screen.

"Greetings Shockwave."

"Soundwave." – he was surprised, or at least his voice indicated so; before it has always been Megatron communicating with him. – "Where is Lord Megatron?"

"Lord Megatron: deactivated in battle. Transmitting visual records: now."

They waited patiently until Shockwave checked and double checked the authenticity of the recording, not even hiding his anxiety. – "Are you sure he is deactivated? Can he be revived somehow?"

"Reactivation: negative. Spark: destroyed completely. Mental functions: nonexistent. CPU: irreparably damaged. Memory banks: corrupted, cca. 60 percent irretrievable." – Soundwave was almost prattling by his own standards, but it was imperative that the one-opticked mech be assured of the finality of Megatron's death. – "Commanding Decepticons: myself."

"So you have taken the supreme command." – Shockwave was calming down, which meant that he accepted Megatron's deactivation and started thinking of his own agenda. Were it anyone else he would still have doubts, but Soundwave was known for not only his loyalty but his truthfulness too.

"Affirmative. Earth Decepticons: acknowledge. Query: your intention?"

Shockwave paused, his one optic taking in the whole picture, acknowledging them all for the first time. He more or less knew the overall situation, Soundwave had been in connection with him a lot lately, appraising him of the events that occurred on Earth. It meant that he was aware of how difficult position they were in, what enormous problems a new commander would have to solve. He also knew that neither of them really wanted to be a supreme commander; Soundwave was a communication specialist, while himself has always been more of a scientist than a warrior or tactician. Nor could he imagine any mech else who would take Megatron's place, not since Starscream was deactivated anyway.

"What is your intention, Soundwave? You have supporters, I can see that, but can you stand against the Prime?"

"Intention: negotiation with Autobots. Goal: peace or permanent cease-fire with acceptable terms. Distant objective: rebuilding Cybertron."

"You have already talked about a peace with the Prime?"

"Negative. Cease-fire: exist. Negotiations: proposed. Input: welcomed." – They knew that Shockwave, much as he tried to hide it, was a vainglorious mech and easily took umbrage if he felt being left out of something. But tell him that they've waited for his input for the negotiations and he would be content – as much as he could ever be so.

"Why should we agree to peace?"

"Reasons: upholding Decepticon values: possible. Optimus Prime: trustworthy. Old Senate: nonexistent. Reason for war: outdated. Energon situation: dire."

"Do you think we can achieve favorable terms for a peace?"

"Seekers: planted ideas. Common ground: found. Reasonable peace-treaty: probable." – Soundwave was patient, willing to explain the same thing many times if it made Shockwave more amenable to accept them. They knew what he'd want; an amnesty for him personally for the heinous crimes that his experiments were considered by Autobots and a place in any future political structure that they'd agree on. – "Your input: expected."

"I see. In that case, I acknowledge you as Supreme Commander, Lord Soundwave and agree to your plans for negotiations. Do you require my presence on Earth?"

"Cease-fire with Ultra Magnus: required. Presence on Earth: afterwards."

Silverstorm risked a glance to Soundwave, trying to see if he felt any duplicity from the Cybertronian commander. Shockwave was particularly hard to read if he chose to hide his emotions; the lack of facial features was his distinct advantage. But so far, it seemed, he was on the level and that meant the first hurdle was down.

"I will contact to Ultra Magnus immediately. How long we have?"

"Deadline: ten orns."

When the connection was over, they all sighed a little from their vents; Shockwave's drone army would've been a hard thing to win over, while with his cooperation, they could actually be useful and a bargaining chip in the peace negotiations.

"I'll go out for a little patrol in a while." – Silverstorm announced. He got a silent nod from Soundwave, who knew just what he would do on that patrol, while Onslaught was looking at him thoughtfully, with a little frown. He should be let in on some things maybe…

"Would you care for a cube together before I go out again? We can discuss some things."

"Certainly. It's not like many others have energon, like you Seekers."

"We can share. All I ask in exchange is to listen."

**Skyraider**

They left the party early, while the mood was still high with bots excitedly telling war stories to each other, some dancing and most drinking high grade. The twins spared him the latter, not wanting him to become overcharged and he was only happy to let them smother him in accolades, compliments and outright flattery; it was truly a change of things to be praised instead of blamed and deplored. He saw and felt a tiny bit sorry for the Aerialbot youngster who tried to get closer but was cut off by the dangerously smiling twins before he could get to Skyraider's table. He just wasn't in the mood to babysit an eager, naïve youngster; right then he preferred the somewhat jaded twins who at least knew exactly what they were doing.

And know they did. Even by the time they got to the twins' quarters, he was starting to feel like a marshmallow in the fire; slagging Sideswipe knew exactly how to touch a flier's wings and underneath the still steely façade that he was hard put to keep, he was really going to melt. They hardly got inside the door when his lips were captured by a harsh, demanding kiss by Sunstreaker; the yellow twin didn't speak much but he kissed like a real pro. Of course, a small, still suspicious voice said in the back of his CPU, they had ample opportunity to perfect their techniques. It means nothing, he argued with himself, while giving as good with his glossa as he got, a 'face is just a 'face, no matter how good it feels; it is not like he was going to bond with them right now. Or any time later... the relationship between them was too new, too undefined to tell where it would end up.

Then Sideswipe started to caress his chassis with one servo, while the other upped its attention to the wings and his brother started to discover the vents and the cockpit in front; and Skyraider stomped down on that small inner voice, told it to shut up and enjoy the attention as much as he was. So what if he was a bit crazy and talking to himself while a pair of talented mechs lavished attention to his body? It wasn't like the twins were completely sane either. So he tried to loose himself in the sensations and succeeding too… their frames were flush to his own, their heating cores fuelling each other, their fields twisting around like crazy, servos dipping into gaps and stroking sensitive wires… ragged moans broke the kisses as they took the attention to the next level.

Then Skyraider decided to throw the control to the winds and let the talented twins do whatever they felt like doing with him. It was a completely new sensation, to trust in some other and outside the trine at that, in bots that he could, should be vary for several reasons. But something broke free in his meta as his frame was worshipped by talented digits, his valve filled and spike enveloped in another's heat; a feeling he didn't let out since… since he trusted a certain big, clumsy, loveable shuttle and didn't regret it. But it was even more, even better this time. Thousands of vorns' worth of stinging loneliness and throbbing desolation was untangling itself in his pleasure-blown processor and damn, but it felt good…

If it was just a 'face for them, it would still be his gain, Skyraider felt with a certainty. But he was almost sure that it wasn't just that. They certainly were pros in the facing department, but still, they put plenty of feeling into it, plenty of care and attention. No, Skyraider shut firmly and finally down his little inner voice, they were as serious as they could get. He would feel if it was otherwise, in this strange, open, trusting and vulnerable state that he was in, he would certainly know their shallow victoriousness in the entangled fields. But all he felt was contentment, safety and care. Just what he needed, was his last thought before falling into a pleasantly tired, deep recharge.

**Silverstorm**

He was doing a lap of the usual places but none of the Autobot Seekers turned up. Well, they might have gotten bogged down with some celebrations, the Seeker thought; after all, Megatron's deactivation was an event worthy of such, especially for one of them. Silverstorm was just about to turn and head back to the Nemesis base when he noticed a faintly visible, winged shape sitting on a rocky outcropping, bathed in silvery moonlight, apparently deep in thoughts if he didn't notice the Seeker landing just a few meters from him.

"Hello. Do you mind if I join you?"

Air Raid straightened up fast from his stoop, jumped to his feet, surprised and frightened at the same time, nervously pointing his rifle at the clearly Con Seeker who just appeared in front of him.

"Wha-what do you want from me, Con?"

"Hey, calm down. We have a cease-fire, remember?"

"Oh… we do. Sorry, I forgot." – it was strange to see a Con standing a few meters from himself, calmly enquiring about him. What did he ask..?

"Oh… sure, sit down…" – he too sat down on the ledge again, still sad, frustrated, and on top of his own problems also nervous about the older jet watching him knowingly.

"What is it that brought you out at this time? I thought every Autobot would be celebrating Megatron's deactivation now – but you don't look like particularly happy now."

"I don't… uhh… why do you ask?"

A simple shrug and Silverstorm glanced at the young flier. – "You look like sparkbroken. I thought you might be more willing to tell its reason to a stranger than to your brothers." – the wing-dip probably went unnoticed but after all Silverstorm couldn't stop his wings talking any more than the other one start doing it. – "After all you did come out here alone, instead of choosing their comfort."

"Yeah, but not to talk to you!" – Air Raid wasn't ready to tell his secret to this stranger. Or even to talk to him. – "I want to be alone. Not with a Con, so go away!"

"Well, alone is sometimes good… but not when you have a sparkache. And you do look like having one. Lashing out is also something you need company for." – Silverstorm smirked at the comical expression of the younger flier. He was… endearing even when he was rude.

"I don't have a sparkache anyway!"

"Sure, you are only moping here alone because somebody spilt your high grade at the party."

"Don't mock me, Decepticon!"

"My name is Silverstorm."

"I don't care!"

"I do. It is called basic politeness. You Autobots usually care about that, right?"

"Air Raid." – he tossed his designation to the Con like a challenge. – "Will you now go away, PLEASE?"

"Only if you unload first what is on your processor. Being frustrated doesn't count."

"You are impossible! … okay, so if you want to know, I was just ditched by someone I tried to get close to and I had to see him escorted out by others…" – Air Raid stopped shouting and realized that the other Seeker just goaded him into telling his disappointment out loud just breems after he swore to himself never to tell it to anyone… - "Slag…"

"It happens sometimes, you know? Was he a Seeker?"

He might as well tell everything now… - "Yeah…"

"Who?"

"Skyraider…" – Air Raid had a strange, constraining feeling in his chest when he said the designation. Why was he so nervous and shy in the Seeker's presence? Why couldn't he act like the twins and court the Seeker like them?

"Ohh… youngling, you would have to grow a lot before you can successfully court someone like him …"

"I'm not a youngling!"

"Yes, you are. You can't grow up just because you want to."

"But I wanted to court him…! Why can't I…?"

"Air Raid… do you think that you love him or just having a crush on him? You wouldn't be the first at the latter…"

"I… I don't know… I thought that… that I did."

"As long as you don't know, it is not love. And it is better that you avoid such an unequal relationships like this one would have been; it is quite impossible to court someone that dominant."

"What do you mean?"

"He is far older than you, stronger, faster, far more experienced, one could say jaded Seeker with a few million vorns' worth of advantage on you. He would be totally dominant over you. You would be a… almost a prey to him. I don't know you all that well but you don't look like this kind to me, you wouldn't be happy with this role after the first infatuation passed. Am I right?"

The wide open optics of the flier told him that he didn't even think of this before, but it cut into a sensitive code in his processor.

"I… I guess…"

"So… it's better if you get over it, grow up a bit, learn to be a proper Seeker, play the field a bit… and in a few hundred vorns look around again for a Seeker to catch."

"It's not like I have a lot of opportunities…"

"Hmm… this peace will come inevitably, you know? There aren't many Seekers left, that's true, but quite enough for you and your brothers." – the smirk was quite visible this time and Air Raid even answered with a tentative smile of his own to it. – "When we don't have these marks on our wings, we will all be just Seekers. Fliers anyway. Not to mention other younglings that must come about eventually. They will be more your generation than us, ancients… I am the youngest of the Seekers and still a few million vorns older than you and your brothers."

Air Raid was totally nonplussed. He knew that the Seekers were created before the war, he knew that the war has been going on for millions of vorns – but he never added two and two. For the Aerialbots' scant few dozen vorns of existence a sparkling born these days would be still closer in generation than the far older Seekers. Suddenly even Skyraider didn't seem to be as alluring as before… sure, his spark still panged at the thought of seeing him with the twins, but the worst of it was gone and he could see the wisdom in the advice that Silverstorm gave.

"That doesn't mean though that you must give up Seekers completely, you know?" – the moonlight-bathed, silvery form that sat beside him unobtrusively moved closer to him and Air Raid felt the first, tingling touches of their fields, saw the lustful smirk on his face.

"What do you mean?"

A claw gently lifted his chin until he looked at the smoldering red optics, suddenly very close to his own - "I mean that even if one Seeker is not interested in you, another one could. Life doesn't have just bonding or nothing in it, you know? There are things in between; from a quick fling to friends with benefits… the choice is yours, Air Raid."

He was confused at first… but as he decoded the roundabout words and added the Seeker's posture, the darkening ruby of his optics and the playful nudges of his field… Air Raid started to forget the depression that chased him out here. The Seeker was not only right, but… but he was there, he was willing, he was nice and… and why not? The younger jet hesitantly closed the distance to those burning optics, firmly stopping the thoughts that could tell him not to trust the Con Seeker - and promptly lost himself in the sensations for the rest of the night.

**Bumblebee**

Hound rarely, if ever got monitor duty. He much preferred to spend his time outside the Ark, exploring the planet, and he was suited for that far more than sitting inside; and only a minor accident and Ratchet restricting him to light duty could make him stay in one place and stare the monitors for joors. Sideswipe was supposed to be his partner at comms, but the red twin was late from his shift and Hound couldn't reach him through his comm line either. But just as he was considering to find Prowl, the door whooshed open and a yellow Seeker walked in the monitor-room. Bumblebee never got monitor duty since he became a Seeker and he was there only doing a favor for Skyraider who, well, let's say kept Sideswipe, and his twin incidentally, busy.

He was surprised to see the usually calm, easygoing scout shudder slightly as he approached the comm board and move as far as he could in the smallish room; they had never been friends per se, but Bumblebee didn't remember anything serious between them either that would cause such a reaction. He cast a querying glance on the scout, but got no answer to the wordless enquiry, the scout's optics remained riveted to the otherwise boring monitors. Not that it set his mind to ease; he could just feel that something was definitely not all right. He tried to remember when he last saw Hound or talked to him and quickly realized that it must have been way before, when he was still a minibot and they got patrol together sometimes.

"Hi, Hound; is there a problem?"

"No, nothing."

But it was strange. Hound wasn't a talkative mech, but it wasn't like him to shake anyone off so abruptly. – "You all right? Is there anything…?" – Bumblebee didn't know what he could do, but he was ready to help Hound if he needed. But the scout just stared at him for a few, tense breems until he started to acutely fidgeting, his wings folding back nervously.

"You really don't know, do you?"

"I… I don't know what you mean, Hound."

"I thought someone would mention it to you at least." – he looked… frightened, anxious, angry and resigned at the same time, a servo unbelievably waving towards his chassis… - "How you got this frame, don't you know?"

"I… I believe Skywarp was shot… but I really don't know any details. Was it… did it somehow involve you too…?"

"You can say that… he was all over me when Mirage shot him down. It wasn't even in a battle… I've been avoiding you ever since." – he shrugged, a bit calming down, vaguely apologetic – "I don't blame you for anything, you understand? Just… it is just still a bit hard to be in a presence of a Seeker."

"You mean he was… that way…? Aww, Hound, I'm so sorry… I really didn't know about it…" – it was awful to know… theoretically, he knew that Skywarp did pretty awful things before, but never before had he got a reason to feel… well, somewhat responsible or guilty for those things. But Hound… well, he couldn't imagine how the scout felt. And Mirage too… he definitely felt guilty for not even noticing how his friends felt, as he was so much in the company of the Seekers, feeling so happy with Storm'… damn, it was a sobering revelation. And one that he couldn't do anything about…

"I told you that I don't blame you for it. It was Skywarp. I'll just need more time to be… well, to be comfortable with Seekers in general."

"Do you want me to go…? I can ask someone to take this shift."

Hound was actually considering the offer. But talking to Bumblebee wasn't as bad as he thought it would be… as far as he didn't look at the Seeker.

"N-no, I think it is okay, if we talk. I just won't look at you, okay?"

"Sure! If you are really comfortable with it?"

"Yeah… I think."

Talk they did and the worst of the mood slowly dissipated, leaving just a vague uncomfortable stress lingering in the monitor room. Hound remained in one end of the console, hunched pretty much over it and Bumblebee was careful not to move closer – or move any really. A little discomfort was more than worth making up for a friend. Bumblebee tried to avoid any Seeker-specific topics and mainly let Hound talk about the organic, Earth specific things he discovered on his patrols; this proved to be a neutral ground as they realized. They talked a bit about the last battle too of course; Megatron's deactivation promised a peace and it made both of them look forward to the possibilities. Hound was torn between wanting to remain on Earth and also wanting to return to Cybertron, and as Bumblebee discovered, he felt pretty much the same. The shift ended sooner than any of them thought, the discussion taking up the time and their unease both and they left in a far healthier mood than either of them thought possible before…

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: Thanks for Light Our Darkest Hour, who made me realize that I simply forgot poor Hound after the first chapter; I've been meaning to write about him but forgot it; and now I supplemented his part.


	17. Steps

**Warning**: in the 4th chapter sticky threesome (Skyraider + twins)

**Note**: from Chapter 10 onwards Skyraider = ex!Starscream; Stormbringer = ex!Thundercracker and Bumblebee = ex!Skywarp albeit a little differently.

"normal speech"

"_comm"_

_::bond/gestalt link::_

* * *

><p><strong>17. Steps<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Air Raid<strong>

When Silverstorm onlined it was early morning, the Sun just rising over the thick forest in front of them, warming them up slowly with its rays. He glanced down at the still recharging form of the smaller flier, nestled into his side and since nobody saw it, allowed a rare, open, honest smile on his face. He so didn't plan to seduce the youngster; it simply came as a sudden whim the night before and seemed a good idea at the time. Actually, he thought lazily, it was a very good idea. The youngster was just malleable enough to learn but have enough fire in him to be interesting. Silverstorm waited patiently until he too came online, accessed his memory of the night… and realized the situation. Interestingly enough he wasn't as shocked as he thought the younger one would be…

"Morning." – he smirked at the jet as he startled a bit – but didn't draw back from the embrace.

"Umm… hello." - Air Raid felt strangely calm and satisfied for the fact that he came online hugged not by one or more of his brothers but a Decepticon Seeker, whom he only knew from one battle. Pit, he hardly knew more than his name; only that he was Air Commander for the 'Cons. Oh, yeah and that he was a pretty good frag. Important knowledge, all of it – name, allegiance, frag. He will be in so much trouble when the others too wake up and start looking for him…

"I gotta go…"

"Why the hurry? Your brothers called or you have a duty shift?"

"You know about my brothers…?"

"Sure. It is sensible to research the enemy." – he looked serious for a nanoklik and Air Raid was uncomfortably reminded that yes, he was still an enemy, despite of the ceasefire and they might meet in a battle, shooting at each other. – "I know that you are from a gestalt and I know a lot about gestalt links. I'm guessing that you locked them out from the bond last night and they are clamoring now to know why."

"Umm, not yet. They probably sleep in after yesterday's party. But soon they will…"

As if on cue, Air Raid's gestalt link erupted with Silverbolt's frantic voice.

_::Where are you Raid?::_

He winced at the loud and slightly accusing question but there was no lying in the bond.

_::I'm outside, 'Bolt. I'll go back soon.::_

_::What were you doing out all night? You shut down the link, the comm, everything since you left the party.::_

_::Umm… can we talk about it later? I have company…::_

_::What? Who?::_

_::Later, 'Bolt. No problem, just… just later, okay?::_

"Yeah, they found out that I spent the night out here." – he mumbled, strangely flustered.

"Don't worry… I won't tell anyone." – Silverstorm's grin was contagious and he too smiled back at the strange Seeker. – "But I might drop by if you don't mind."

"Well… it's not that I can keep something like this out of the gestalt bond… when we combine all of them will know anyway. And… no, I wouldn't mind that…"

"Still, I guess they'll keep it within the gestalt, right? In my experience combiner teams work pretty closed towards others. After all it isn't like you told me any secrets or the like."

"Yeah…"

They parted away and stood up, the Seeker lazily cleaning up his interface array, bringing a slight blush to Air Raid's faceplates as he followed his example. Fortunately they wouldn't have to worry about paint streaks, the slight silver and white scratches were almost invisible and looking natural wear anyway. Without much ado, the Seeker jumped into the air transforming and streaking away, leaving only a goodbye after him.

"See you next time, Air Raid…"

Yeah, next time… sometime, if ever, he thought as he too started to fly home, dreading the inevitable questions already.

* * *

><p><strong>Stormbringer<strong>

The day after the battle and the big party afterwards it seemed all of the Ark inhabitants were sleeping in, fighting with hangover, or in the case of the few unfortunates who needed to go on duty dragging themselves out of their berths with more than a few curses. The big ship was almost silent, only the cleaning drones tried valiantly to make the rec-room and its surroundings presentable again for the day's activities. Stormbringer stirred beside Bumblebee, snuggling to the yellow chassis, sleepily trying to get them both online for their shift. Not that patrol had so much of an importance during a ceasefire, but still, easier to get up and go than explain that to Prowl, who undoubtedly was up already, dealing with who knew what he had to.

So, they got up, firmly putting aside the frivolous thoughts that they woke up with and after swiping a few cubes from the rec room that still looked hardly better than a battlefield – it even had some mechs lying around, fortunately just in overcharged recharge – they got out and went on to a lazy, sedate flight to have a look around. They saw Air Raid flying home almost under the hills as he tried to remain as inconspicuous as he could, so they choose not to embarrass him with a comm. Every mech is entitled to their private lives – even if in the case of the gestalt it was hardly a secret - and going back to the Ark after a night's activities definitely qualified to that. Neither of them expected the young Aerialbot doing anything illegal of course, although they shared a few jokes at his expanse.

After the patrol it was officer's meeting for the other two, so he could get the gift ready that he planned for Bumblebee. Wheeljack was most helpful in researching and helping to create his present; fortunately he caused no explosion whatsoever during it. It was interesting, as he never had anything to do with the mech, and still they had fun creating this object. He put it into a carved wooden box that one of the humans helped to procure and first contemplated on leaving it on the berth that was nominally Bumblebee's, although neither of them even remembered when he last used it – but decided finally that this one had to be given without the mock secrecy. It wasn't his first present, but the crystals, the energon treats, the waxes were all just simple ones, to keep up the courting; while this one… well it was the major and significant gift according to custom. Finally, comming to Skyraider to come with Bee he awaited the yellow Seeker to return…

Bumblebee and Skyraider came together from the officers' meeting, still discussing the points that they had on the menu, when they entered the room. Stormbringer turned towards the yellow Seeker, the box resting on his upturned palms. He was strangely nervous, although he had absolutely no reason to be; so far Bumblebee gave every sign of returning his feelings and every one of his answers to his courting were positive. He moved closer until they almost touched and he saw from the corner of his vision Skyraider beside them, without his customary smirk for once. He held out the box to Bumblebee, who apparently caught on the seriousness of the occasion and slowly opened it. Satisfied with the widening of the blue optics and the small gasp of surprise, Stormbringer spoke up, nervousness disappearing suddenly.

"I would bond with thee."

The blue optics lifted to his face, looking deep into his own silvery ones. Surprise drained out slowly, replaced by a smile that warmed up his spark. The black servos reached into the box and without hesitation lifted out the subtly glimmering saber by its handle. He was not sure of this part but instincts and emotions told him what to do and he went with it.

"I will bond with thee."

Bumblebee stood with the blade in one servo, touched to his spark, just a tiny bit bemused; he never used a sword and they were not exactly his style. Stormbringer embraced him, spark almost jumping out of his chest as finally, after so much hardship and trouble things seemed to turn to the best. He would explain later that the saber was traditional and ritualistic, like everything in Seeker courtship and didn't require him to actually learn to use it; very few Seekers used such hand weapons these days. But for now he was content to hold Bumblebee close and swim in their shared happiness.

"Slag, I didn't believe that anyone would still give a saber for proposing." – Skyraider wanted to break up the mushiness of the situation with some down to earth grumbling before he too caught it. – "I hope you didn't mean bonding right now?"

"No, not right now. But you too should start to get ready. Trine leader and all that…"

"Hehh… Trine bonding must come first."

"I know… but don't dawdle."

"I don't intend to. Now, with the ceasefire we can do it any time."

* * *

><p><strong>Silverstorm<strong>

When they turned up two days later at the main entrance of the Ark, in broad daylight, landing there like they owned the place, the guards there just gaped. Cliffjumper recovered faster than Beachcomber and training his ridiculously big gun on the two nonchalantly approaching Seekers, he shouted at them.

"Stop right there, Decepticreeps! You can't go in! I will blast you to the Pit if you try!"

The two Seekers looked at each other, shrugged, and Silverstorm calmly answered to the agitated minibot, showing that his null-rays were offline.

"All right. Could you call Skyraider out? We can wait him a bit more." – he smirked maliciously and continued. "Ohh, and please call Air Raid out as well, it will be a fine spectacle out here. Ummm… better make that all the Aerialbots. And maybe Optimus Prime too, for an entirely different reason of course. Or Prowl, he is the SIC. We will just camp out right here until then."

Cliffjumper spluttered in anger, while Beachcomber snickered in badly hidden mirth. The Seekers looked bland and aside from that one smirk, looking at the almost incoherent minibot with a completely neutral, polite, only slightly disdaining expression.

"You can't… can't just call mechs out here!"

"Then how do you propose that we could talk to them?"

"You shouldn't! Go away Cons!"

"Do you know the meaning of the word 'negotiation', little one?"

Beachcomber couldn't let this go on any more, funny as the commotion was, and quickly commed to Prowl, asking what they should do in this situation. They had a cease-fire all right, but he wasn't sure of the particulars and didn't want to foul up the status quo.

"Prowl says that you can come in provided that you accept an escort and keep your weapons offline."

"Agreed. We came to talk about the negotiations anyway, so if you'd be so kind…" – Silverstorm snickered at the minibot's still angry face while they waited for Tracks who was sent to escort them around. They talked to Prowl, settling the details of the negotiations, found Skyraider and his Trine in the rec room and after a good, long glance congratulated the other two on their relationship, but after a few words set out to the Aerialbots' quarters with the bemused Tracks in tow. A little while later the number of bemused mechs started to grow as they made their way through the Ark. Silverstorm enjoyed the stares; there was no danger and he was a Seeker after all, so he gave up some of his customary aloofness and preened in the sudden attention. Angry glares and subtle insults are no news for a Decepticon, after all.

At the Aerialbots' hangar it was pandemonium. Slingshot was shouting angrily and pushing at Air Raid who yelled right back at him, Silverbolt was trying to keep them apart but ended up shouting as well, while Fireflight almost cried at seeing his brothers' anger. Skydive sat on a couch resentful, after trying and failing to drag Slingshot away from his other brother, but mainly because nobody listened to him. Silverstorm had a suspicion as to what caused the argument and was glad to break the tension.

"Have I come a bad time?" – a ghost of a smile shadowed his faceplates as he saw the tableau freeze and the angry yells die down at his quiet question. – "I can come back later if you are busy."

Silverbolt felt embarrassed presenting their inner arguments to a stranger – a Seeker at that and the one they had the row about. He didn't know the flier personally, only by name, but he knew the cease-fire and saw Tracks escorting them, so they were there peacefully and should be welcomed as guests. No matter what Air Raid did or Slingshot thought about it. But Slingshot wasn't ready to let his anger go and interrupted his leader as Silverbolt started to greet the visitors.

"Go away Decepticreeps, before you are thrown out; you have no business here!" – he shook Fireflight's hands off from his wings too and continued shouting aggressively. – "Nobody here wants to see your ugly wings!"

"I think that is for Air Raid to say, not you, you insolent little glitch." – There was only so much he would take and the jet was positively rude. Silverstorm saw that it was only one of them so angry, while the rest of them were rather bemused if anything – and if their wings were any indication they were acknowledging the Seekers' presence with more or less respect. – "Since I came here to visit him and not you. You can be glad if I overlook your insult."

"Slingshot that was enough. You can't talk to someone that way!"

"I can talk to anyone in any way I want to! And that slagger has used Air Raid's frustration to seduce him!"

"Shut up!" – Air Raid was embarrassed beyond belief and for the first time in his life murderously angry at Slingshot. – "I do what I want and I don't need you to fuck up everything!"

"Excuse me." – Silverstorm was good at being exceedingly polite aloud while reducing Slingshot to a gnat with his suddenly angry, red glare, his posture and the aggressive flaring of his wings. – "I do believe that what happened between Air Raid and myself is our concern alone. While I understand that gestalts are good at overcomplicating their lives, a single, consensual interface that did good for both of us is not something you have to be so overly emotional. I fail to see why this underdeveloped box of useless bolts need to involve himself in it, much less scream like a banshee."

Tracks snickered at both the insult and Slingshot's comically furious face and Fireflight wasn't far from it either; only the solidarity to his brother stayed the smile off his faceplates. Silverbolt was embarrassed like so often about Slingshot's thoughtless actions and answered to the Seeker while Slingshot could only splutter in his fury.

"I'm sorry, we just… we were worried about our brother. It is hard for us not to be involved or concerned when one of us has an outside interest and… well, we all had our disappointments…"

"If the cease fire continues, we can meet more and get to know each other. Maybe that will calm down your brother too…?" – Silverbolt was holding back Slingshot bodily before he could do something that they would all regret later, for once utilizing his greater mass against his loudly cursing brother. – "Little one, if you can hate someone so much for so little, maybe you are wearing the wrong insignia."

"Please, don't provoke him more. Why have you come?"

"Nothing in particular – but I thought that being open about things would be better than pretending that it didn't happen. Maybe I underestimated your emotional responses…"

Slingshot calmed down marginally and let Skydive and Fireflight drag him to his room, leaving Silverbolt and the still furiously embarrassed Air Raid in the common area with the Seekers. It didn't get any less awkward as they tried to converse and soon even the patient Silverstorm gave up the useless exercise. Maybe the Aerialbots were really too young for this. Or too gestalt. Or something.

* * *

><p><strong>Skyraider<strong>

"What was it with you and Skyfire?" – Sideswipe felt almost jealous which was a completely new feeling for him and had he been less upset, he would've been surprised by it even more.

"I'm sure you noticed his interest." – Skyraider was distinctly uncomfortable, as any detailed explanation would have to include their shared past with the shuttle and he definitely wasn't ready to reveal that and his identity to the twins. That meant lying and strangely he didn't like the feeling. Relationship should not be started with untruths. – "I just told him to stop having presumptions and stay within a professional relationship in the science lab."

"Ahh… so he was interested…" – Sideswipe glanced to his brother, saw that he wasn't all that happy about it either and continued. – "I'm glad that you told him off. I hope… well, we hope that you mean it."

"I do." – Skyraider wasn't sure of a whole lot of things lately but his relationship with the shuttle was one of these few. – "But still I'd be glad if you stopped pranking him. He takes it far harder than your usual targets… science bots usually can't handle being pranked well."

"Ahhh… but there is no point in pranking just those who can take it in stead… they don't give all the right reactions and it is no fun."

"I think you are just afraid of pranking Ratchet after all that time." – the smirk was sarcastic, baiting the twins onto another target, instead of the naïve shuttle. – "Besides it is not like you have any basis to be… jealous. Is there?"

Sideswipe wanted nothing more than answer without hesitation with a firm, solid and meant 'NO'… but he found that he couldn't. He _was_ jealous and the bond told him that Sunstreaker fared no better, only angrier. What he didn't know was what the jealousy meant for the Seeker, who only ever had this emotion when a relationship went further than a certain point and became more than the 'let's frag' stage. The perceived feeling made the Seeker preen and happily lift his wings.

"I… uhh… of course not!" – but his voice was weak and lacking any conviction. It didn't fool Skyraider either who smirked again and fluttered his wings enticingly towards the flustered twins. It was really satisfying to see their reaction, never mind that he was having one too. – "I mean we like you and all that but it is nothing more… isn't it Sunny?"

Sunstreaker only growled at the nickname and stalked over to the other two lazing on the berth. He so wasn't going to be embarrassed by a Seeker or some hazy feelings that always got worse when talked about. He preferred actions. Kissing the flier was far easier than explaining what the Pit they wanted, especially since they didn't really know what the Pit they wanted. Only in a very-very roundabout way.

But the kiss seemed a satisfying answer to him too, at least so far as the purring was any indication. Fortunately Sides also stopped blabbering and got down to business, pulling Skyraider onto his lap and tickling the ailerons lightly that caused the flier to shudder and moan deeply into the kiss. It felt nice and gave him an advantage in their battle of the glossas that they fought for domination – Sunstreaker won and immediately invaded the Seeker's mouth. Sideswipe's throaty laugh signaled that he saw – and felt - the silent contest and was not against helping his twin to win it - cheating a bit so soon as he snuck a servo under the flier's panel to caress the already heating and heavily squirming metal. One for the home team.

Skyraider retaliated for the lost battle with his servos, fitting some talons underneath the golden armour, finding some bundles of wires to fondle while he entertained the invading glossa with his own. He was outnumbered though and as much as he got the golden twin to squirm, the red one made him writhe from the pleasurable sensations coming from his wings. Slagging frontliners sure knew how to handle a wing. And a flier, he thought dazedly when a servo drew a burningly enjoyable line around his cockpit that shook his frame and caused a haze to envelop his conscious mind. Lifting his shaking servos he grabbed the fins on Sunstreaker's helm, employing his thumbs to massage the sensitive metal vigorously. That made him break away from his conquest in order to throw his helmet backwards and moan properly, the cerulean optics deepening almost to indigo with lust, the servos tightening their grip on the cockpit's edge, the blunt tips screeching on the metal almost painfully.

One down, one to go, Skyraider grinned as he leaned over Sunstreaker supporting himself on his knees, lifting his heels and touching them lightly to Sideswipe's legs behind him. A slow, deep thrum emanated from the heel thrusters as he started them up, carefully keeping them in the not yet burning phase and the vibrations made the red twin widen his optics and starting up his vents to cool his overheating frame, his servos loosing contact with the lustfully fluttering, wriggling wings. Skyraider moved the thrusters upwards, touching them lightly to the red and black metal, until he reached the hips; from then on – it is time to play dirty, he thought smugly – he pulled them together and firmly planted them on the black crotch plate. The choking whimper coming from behind told him of victory on that front as well. A definite win on both fronts.

But winning a battle doesn't mean the whole war as he learned soon; Sunstreaker retaliated with servos massaging his panel and Skyraider couldn't keep it closed any more. It gave the fragger an advantage immediately, as the black digits dived in to coax his spike out and it was his turn to loose the initiative, probably for good. Sunstreaker didn't miss his chance and grasping the already hard spike started to massage its length with a victorious smirk on his handsome face. The groaning Seeker simply had to kiss that grin away and pulled his helm close by the fins, devouring his mouth. He may have lost the battle down under but he was still standing victorious up here. And losing it he surely would as he felt Sideswipe pouncing on him, recovering from his thruster-induced haze, dipping a finger into his valve and regaining the aileron too that he lost before. Twins ahead again.

He was already getting too much sensory input and Skyraider only managed to open Sideswipe's panel yet. Letting go the golden twin's helm he dipped lower, mouth and talons drawing heated, tingling, delirious, sometimes light sometimes scraping curves on the golden chassis. He would be furious later for those scratches, the jet knew, but marking the partner during interface was just the Seeker way. Going lower and lower he hooked a few claws into the edge of the hip armour, pushing deep into the gaps while his glossa glided toward the target. By the time he reached it, Sunstreaker gave up pretending and moaned loud, his panel flying open to the questing glossa, spike doesn't even waiting to be coaxed out, straining hard as soon as it could.

But he gave only a few cursory, flitting, teasing licks to it, finishing with a flick to the tip that had him thunk his helm back onto the berth, before dipping into the dripping valve underneath. Lapping up a little of the lubricant he hummed into the warm metal, dipped his glossa in and sucked. Hearing the deliciously wanton sounds from the completely undone Sunstreaker he laughed – still into the valve – and let him recover a bit by changing the glossa to a digit, minus its retracted talon. After all, they were still in the vanilla stage. Copying the movements that Sideswipe treated his valve with, the three of them writhed on the spacious berth, moaning and whimpering shamelessly. He dazedly put down the round as a tie, after all Sides got him well and truly, but he did undo his golden twin.

And that will be the final score too if he had anything to say about it; Skyraider drew himself up again on the shaking yellow frame, pulling the red twin with him. His spike ached to be welcomed into a wet heat and he had one such just under him, wanting his attention back; pushing the golden thighs a bit further apart he thrust it into Sunstreaker's valve and listened to the wanton sounds that he made. Impressively delicious from such a growling individual. The golden twin was hardly able to lift a servo but it found a good place on his cockpit; accidentally opening it up he dipped his digits among the instruments. Skyraider almost lost his rhythm from that and his knees suddenly felt like rubber, unable to hold him up. He had to support his frame on his servos too, spike almost stilling in the undulating valve.

"More…! Don't you dare to stop now!" - Sunstreaker demanded in a shaky, throaty voice but Sideswipe decided that he too had to up the ante and bent Skyraider forward, gaining access to his valve. It wasn't an easy pose but he managed to push into the dripping port and with the restarting motion drew a delicious moan from both mechs under him. Skyraider felt him entering and pushing him into Sunstreaker, dictating the tempo from behind. He didn't mind it actually. No, definitely not. Especially when the fragging red devil behind him gave a slight, cautious bite and a following lick into the wing joint. It peaked the sensation up to the point of pain but the soothing lick afterwards made it incredibly pleasurable. That was definitely a score for him, he would have thought, had he been able to do so.

But he wasn't. The conscious thoughts disappeared somewhere and there was only a hot, wet valve around him and a spike thrusting into his, inexorably moving them all, ever further into the glorious haze of delight. All other movements were just extras, servos, glossas, plates touching and scraping on each other, not quite able to add to the extraordinary pleasure, only enhancing it. Skyraider long gave up the moans as far too tame for the experience that he was feeling and screamed his joy out shamelessly. The twins were perhaps not as loud but almost as wanton as they cried his designation when the pleasure finally peaked and the overload crashed through them at the same time.

Vocalizers straining and crackling, they fell into a sated heap as they were, burying the not yet complaining, half-offline Sunstreaker underneath, vents wheezing to cool their frames, optics offline from the burning white flames of their overload. Sideswipe was the first to recover and pulling out, he threw himself on his back beside them, all limbs haphazardly thrown apart, vents still straining to draw fresh air but already laughing at his twin's predicament, trapped under the unmoving Seeker.

"You look good there Sunny."

"Frag you." – Sunstreaker hardly had any strength left to growl, it almost came out as a whimper – and that wouldn't do. Collecting all his wits and mechly voice he croaked once and tried to push the Seeker off; which the said flier resisted on account of being still offline and rebooting slowly. – "Hey, 'Raider, can you get off me any time? Like now?"

"Mmmm… Kinda comfy here, you know?"

"You will be in the bottom next time, decided."

"I'm adopting you for a berth."

Skyraider only managed to lift his helm so far, but the view was not that great; a scowling Sunstreaker in close-up was not to his liking so he covered the grin with his mouth instead, kissing him to shut him up, not even attempting to get off the frontliner. After all how many times would he have this posture, having the vain golden mech trapped under him? After this probably none. He considered it a victory as well, albeit the full score seemed to avoid his processor, probably blown away by the immense overload that he just had. But anyway, it was a war where everyone won. He liked this kind of war.

* * *

><p><strong>Silverstorm<strong>

Shockwave's procession into the Ark was followed by an air of frozen disbelief, a resentment so strong that it could almost be felt in the air itself. Mechs stepped back when he approached, whispered or growled expletives as he passed and more than one made moves to draw a weapon as he passed. It was almost like the Unmaker himself made a visit to the shocked Autobot ship, freezing the very air itself by his passing. The onlookers watched Soundwave with a vary and vague affront; the silver-white Seeker about whom the Ark grapevine said many fascinating tales lately with an interest and some apprehension of his manipulative nature; and the glowering Onslaught with hardly a glance beside the others. But Shockwave… he was followed by fear, disgust and hatred – like the personification of the darkest side of the war.

The biggest of the meeting rooms were set for the negotiations, which they expected to take several orns at least, so Optimus Prime offered temporary accommodations to the Decepticons in a nearby hangar, far enough from the Ark to feel safe and converse privately without fearing to be overheard; but close enough to be in contact any time they wanted to. It wasn't easy at first to keep the tempers in check and Silverstorm watched with some secret glee that mostly it came from the Autobot side; Ironhide was expectedly easy to goad and he had some success with Prowl too. The Praxian played the emotionless robot well, but he couldn't deceive someone who read his doorwings like they were an open datapad.

That Red Alert glitched almost continuously in the presence of the whole Decepticon command element was no surprise to anyone; it didn't escape anyone's processor and certainly not his that by sheer mass and firepower they outweighed all the Autobots, save the Prime. After all it was agreed – they came to the Autobot base, into the midst of enemy ground, so they needed a feeling of balance. It was especially so when Shockwave's place was taken by Hook.

On their side, it was actually Shockwave who proved to be the most volatile one – unsurprisingly as many of the Autobots had him in their proverbial crosshairs for various reasons. Silverstorm could more than understand them for it; but it meant that they had to leave the cyclops out on some occasions to make the talks go smoother. In exchange Ironhide, too was asked not to neglect his other duties and Perceptor took his place in the Autobot delegation. It meant, he thought smirking slightly that after a few orns of useless haggling and loud wrangling, they could now start the real negotiations and let Shockwave cool his heels in their temporary basis, updating him only when they returned each day. Silverstorm accepted this job after seeing how distasteful Soundwave found the necessary haggling with him.

-o-o-

"The main points are to sign a lasting peace between the factions; a tabula rasa with forgetting both faction names and remove all insignias; work together under a temporary government composed of the leaders of the factions until there are more of us; and work out a new society that is based on freedom and equality."

"Sounds logical. But then all declarations start out logical and fair. What are the safeguards and limitations to make sure they are acted upon?"

"First of all we all get a representation in the temporary government and the new system will need to have everyone's agreement to it. Then there is the Prime, whose actions we can trust."

"Can we? He is an Autobot."

"He won't be one. In the future Primes will be forbidden to take sides in any conflict – this way they can be neutral, negotiate between arguing factions and be the final authority. Many of the Decepticons still believe in Primus, much to my surprise and the Prime's authority comes from Him."

"So who will be on this temporary government?"

"As of the first round, we suggested Soundwave, Hook or Onslaught, Prowl, Ultra Magnus and a Neutral representative if they could nominate one. Besides the Prime of course."

"Unacceptable. I want to be part of any such government."

"That is a matter of heavy debate. I suggest that you make your move towards a political role later when emotions are calmer. It would be easier that way. Now we'd have to make heavy concessions in other areas if you insist on it."

-o-o-

"We agreed that no war crimes will be mentioned ever again and no mech will be punished for any such. We still haggle as to which mechs will need some… therapy to reintegrate civilian life."

Shockwave was visibly relieved as his main fear was allayed as he went over the other points in the day's negotiations.

"Good, they seem their usual soft-sparked selves."

"On the other servo, they specifically demand that the data and results of your experiments, all of them, must be shared."

"Absolutely not. They know too much already." – Shockwave was no fool. He was hated enough already, but knew that if everything that he did was shared then nothing would save him from being exterminated, no agreement or treaty. Either by an Autobot or a Decepticon; he was never that picky about test subjects.

"They insist. In fact it was one of their first demands and they threatened to convict you if you don't cooperate on information they do already have."

"No, I will not share all. I might give them some data of my own choosing, but not all."

"Cooperation: necessary." – Soundwave also knew that the Autobots were adamant on this point and wouldn't budge. They had to convince Shockwave somehow and he joined Silverstorm for that reason, giving backing to the Seeker. – "Solution: must be found."

"Look, Shockwave, they don't trust you, and frankly I can understand them. But I have a solution, if you agree to it."

"What is it?"

"Agree to give them access to your lab and databanks after the treaty is signed – but go back to Cybertron now and make sure that the most compromising data is deleted."

"You wish to get rid of me." – Shockwave didn't articulate the sentiment as a question, making it all the more threatening with his dry, emotionless voice.

"**They** wish to get rid of you. Adamantly. And permanently. I'm trying to find you a way so you can come back in time and play a role." – Silverstorm wasn't going to let the scientist become accusing and gain an upper hand. Two can play this game. – "We underestimated how much the Autobots are against you personally."

"You seem to be in league with them in this."

"Shockwave, you know as well as all of us that our position is weaker than theirs. We must make concessions and this way they get what they want, but you get a chance to minimize the effect and give yourself a chance later."

"Solution: suggested to comply. Alternatives: worse."

"I will think of it." – Shockwave knew that they would force him to accept the conditions, and the Seeker's suggestion had at least a way of saving face and getting him out from the danger. Challenging Soundwave at this point was almost impossible, after he acknowledged the telepath's command and made his own subordinates to swear fealty. – "I will return to Cybertron."

It was a decision that neither of them minded much but helped in the negotiations tremendously. Working out the details of the peace was hard enough without unnecessary emotions and prejudices. Soundwave saw to it that he couldn't go back on his word either and go against the proceedings; being a telepath has its advantages as well as having mechs in the right places. Things looked to be going in the right direction for the Decepticons.

* * *

><p><strong>Bumblebee<strong>

Bonding of course required notifying their superiors of the intent, which meant either the Prime or Prowl and Bumblebee decided not to be a coward going straight into Prowl's office. He owed a talk to the two officers and put it off long enough; and sure of his feelings and intentions he couldn't in good conscience avoid them any more. Entering the office he saw Jazz there, in a good mood as well and took it for a sign.

"Hiya Bee… we don't see ya as much lately as before. Whassup?"

"Uhh… Sorry, but I seem to be busy these days."

"Indeed the Ark is fully entertained with that charade that you call '_courting_'." – Prowl's voice was drier than the desert air, doorwings held up strictly and unforgiving.

"It is not a charade… but it will end soon." – Bumblebee flicked his wings in a wordless apology, knowing that Prowl would understand it and through their bond Jazz too. – "I'm sorry if it disturbed you…"

"Whadda ya mean that it ends?"

"I… umm… we… Stormbringer and I intend to bond as soon as we can." – it wasn't easy to tell it out loud to his former lovers and Bumblebee felt more uncomfortable than ever. – "And I wanted to… I guess make up, because we parted in anger and never cleared that."

"That was my mistake and I never got about to apologize." – Prowl felt helpless in the light of what Bumblebee said, even though he reconciled himself a while ago that they lost the yellow Seeker. Still it somehow sealed the matter and robbed them the opportunity to make it work ever again. – "I didn't mean what I said in that way. It was… wrong but not intentionally. I still am sorry."

"I know it now… but back then I felt an outsider, a third wheel, and what you said hurt. A lot. But it was only a last straw really…"

"Ya never been an outsider, Bee!" – Jazz looked shocked – "We woudda bonded with ya in time, we loved ya!"

"It didn't feel like so, Jazz… you didn't even want mechs to know about us, much less bond."

Prowl had his helm in his servos. – "That is also my fault… I was worried perhaps too much about what mechs would say."

"I didna know that ya were so much upset by that… you never told."

"I tried to. But it was warded off as unimportant, and I didn't press the issue. But it left a mark…"

"Ahm sorry. Too bad we can't help it in retrospect. With all that came up afterwards we never found a way to clear it up – and Ah guess it is too late for it." – Jazz was sadder than ever, unconsciously holding on to his bondmate for support.

"Yes… it is too late. It would've been late for quite a while."

"You… you really love him…?"

The yellow Seeker's answer was unhesitant, with strong conviction and warm emotions colouring his tone, wings flaring firmly. – "Yes. I do."

"Then we can only… wish you happiness, I believe." – Prowl tried hard not to feel any lingering resentment. Strong emotions sometimes had their way to erode his control and Jazz's roiling feelings didn't help him either. Past was past and if they couldn't make it better they had to accept it.

"Thank you. Despite of what happened, it still means a lot to me…"

"You mean a lot to us... still. But I'll try to keep that to myself."

Bumblebee nodded and chose not to mention the obvious resentment and downright enmity that Prowl used to display towards Thundercracker. It passed and they survived it - there was no point in bringing it up again. Trust was broken and paths diverged. They could remember the good times but the future held only a professional relationship to the three of them. Leaving the office he closed down that part of his life. A new one has already started and he was going to enjoy it fully.

* * *

><p><strong>Silverstorm<strong>

They were deep into the finer details of the treaty one day, when the Prime was called away unexpectedly. He assured the Decepticons that he would be back as soon as he could and left the conference room. When he came back Silverstorm immediately noticed from his posture and the uncomfortable movements that something serious happened. He also noticed that the Autobot guards also snapped to attention, probably at a comm order. It made him nervous and he started unobtrusively bringing his null-rays online. Optimus Prime stood behind his customary chair at the table and addressed the suddenly quiet negotiators seriously, his voice tinged with a touch of sadness.

"I'm afraid that the cease-fire was broken. By Decepticons, on Cybertron."

Soundwave stood up and at his order all the Decepticons rose as well, drawing close to him, powering up their weapons in case of an attack.

"Query: what happened?"

"Two of our Iacon outpost was attacked a cycle ago, both overrun and our mechs there deactivated. The attack came without provocation or a warning. I'm afraid that I have to consider the cease-fire broken and hostilities resuming." – he looked sadder by the klik, already mourning the lost chance for peace. – "I'll let you return to your base if you do so peacefully. Please, leave now."

Silverstorm was shocked. It shouldn't happen, Shockwave was contained, and no others would dare to go against command. Something was fishy there and he was determined to find out what. He so didn't want the war to start again…

"Prime, please let us contact Shockwave before doing something irreversible. We meant the negotiations."

"Affirmative. Contact: must be made. If Shockwave found rebelling: he must be destroyed. Peace talks: must continue." – from Soundwave it was almost a plea. Optimus Prime stared hard at him for a klik, deciding if he should trust his words.

"Very well… contact them."

Soundwave wasted not a nanoklik before comming the Nemesis to patch him through to Darkmount. But the screen didn't light up with the signal of the contact, instead it resolutely remained dark, empty. Nobody answered the communication request, which from Darkmount was unheard of. Not even after a joor of waiting and trying every means of connecting have they managed to reach anyone there – it was like the whole array was just turned off at their end.

"Soundwave, my communications officer tells me that not even Ultra Magnus can reach the Decepticon command. Usually they answer, even if it is just insults or the like, but now – nothing."

"Affirmative. Darkmount incommunicado." – As last resort, Soundwave commed Thrust to fly to the space bridge and go through to see what was going on. The flier reported back a joor afterwards, nervously telling that the space bridge was nonoperational, nothing going through, like the receiving end had also been turned off like the communications array…

"Or destroyed."


	18. Bridges

**Note**: from Chapter 10 onwards Skyraider = ex!Starscream; Stormbringer = ex!Thundercracker and Bumblebee = ex!Skywarp albeit a little differently.

"normal speech"

"_comm"_

_::bond/gestalt link::_

* * *

><p><strong>18. Bridges<strong>

* * *

><p><strong> Silverstorm<strong>

"Or it was destroyed." – he mused aloud, drawing the stares to himself from all over the room. – "I mean Darkmount."

"Query: source of speculation."

"Just a feeling…" –Silverstorm didn't really want to tell what prompted him to utter that aloud – it came from his brother who couldn't be there personally. Certainly he tried to compute possible scenarios, but it was more probable that either Shockwave or someone else decided that they didn't really want peace and cut themselves off from the Earth-based part of the army.

Soundwave turned to the Autobot officers, surreptitiously gathering at one end of the conference room. – "Statement: we pledge to hold up the cease-fire. Information must be obtained. Suggestion: joint venture to go to Cybertron."

Optimus Prime, as they all knew was willing to go to great lengths to achieve peace and was consequently listening to them. It was the other Autobots that they had to convince of their sincerity and it took some time. The meeting turned from peace negotiations to persuasions and finally into strategic planning to decide how to go about the events. Finally it was decided to open a new space bridge into Iacon, the Autobot headquarters and send a team composed from both factions to investigate. It meant, as all the participants realized that the Autobots would get hold of the space bridge technology, whether they would be at peace afterwards or not. It was the unmentioned price for their cooperation and indirectly for their trust…

Assembling the space bridge took an orn only and in the meanwhile they decided the team that should go; as the Cybertron-based Autobots lacked fliers, the Seekers got a heavy representation in the group. The full Autobot Trine was included, interrupting their private plans to bond, besides Silverstorm and his brother; for muscle they took the twins and Onslaught, while the team was led by Soundwave and Prowl. The space bridge was ready in record time and a single orn after the unexpected events they all stood on its platform, awaiting for the confirmation from Cybertron and move.

* * *

><p><strong>Skyraider<strong>

Skyraider almost forgot how atrociously bad the conditions were on Cybertron. Actually, they were much-much worse than the last time he set foot on the planet, albeit that was quite a long time ago. Stepping off the platform in what used to be Iacon, a glittering white city once, only slightly darkened and battered by the war later – but what was by now basically a desolate field of unidentifiable ruins surrounding a sinister military fortification. The atmosphere was thick and choking with noxious smoke and forbiddingly dark after Earth's sunlit, clear skies. The few lights that tried to beat back the encroaching darkness shone only for a few dozen meters and lost their battle to the repugnant fumes that stained everything with their blackness. There were no stars to be seen, no moon or sun to provide any kind of natural light, and consequently energon; or simply hope.

The ruins and the ground itself underfoot was half melted by weapons' discharges and explosives, half corroded into disgusting, rusting trash by the acid rains and various chemicals that were used in battles. The Seeker, after the first few steps suddenly wished back Earth's often accursed organic, wet soil under his pedes, even more so the desert's dry, solid, rocky surface; anything would be preferable to this unidentifiable, rusting, corrosive and shaky slag. Feeling the thick smoke settling its vile particles onto his armour, dirtying the pristine white metal, choking his vents, Skyraider felt like purging. From the strengthening trine bond he felt Stormbringer and Bumblebee reacting much the same; neither of them knew just how bad Cybertron was these vorns.

It looked like the Pit itself on a bad orn… but it was their homeworld, painful as it was to see the planet in such condition. It was hard to believe and even harder to contemplate that if they managed to make peace they would all have to return here and work for probably hundreds of vorns to clear away this sorry mess and basically rebuild the planet from foundations up. The task at this klik seemed insurmountable, impossible – besides distasteful and hopeless. Skyraider wasn't one to give up anything just because odds seemed to go against it, but in this instance he was sorely tempted to turn back, march into the space bridge, go back to Earth and forever forget this Pithole.

But the welcoming committee was already around them, weapons drawn and ready, Ultra Magnus not quite able to force himself to trust the Decepticons that he hardly even knew. Under the circumstances, Skyraider understood the mech – he wouldn't have trusted them in his place either. But they came through the two groups mixed intentionally, showing their trust in the Cons and preventing any hothead to start shooting or anything foolish. Prowl stepped forward, greeting them and explaining the situation, while they warily glared at the Cons. Skyraider could tell that they were surprised by the five Seekers – apparently the news of their Trine hasn't made its way to the Cybertron based Autobots. All joy, they would have the usual Autobot prejudices towards all Seekers to contend with…

They were escorted into the base that sprawled over the ruins of the city, its well-lit but not too spacious, covered, mainly underground corridors giving the Seekers some occasional shudders. They all saw that they wouldn't like this place, no matter what; it was just a bit on the claustrophobic side for them – Autobots tended to build on a somewhat smaller scale, having less big mechs than Decepticons. They all got signal devices that told the security system their clearance level and let them move around more or less freely and got assigned quarters; but their escort told them to go to the command center at once, because the situation required acting fast. Once there, the awkwardness of the situation grew tenfold; Ultra Magnus was both mistrusting the Decepticons and more than a bit resentful that Optimus Prime thought that an Earth team was needed to deal with the situation on Cybertron, his field of operations. He was polite though, and shrewd, sparring verbally with Soundwave and Silverstorm for breems before the exasperated Skyraider had enough and rudely interrupted them.

"Excuse me, but shouldn't we, I don't know, maybe get out and have a look at Darkmount instead of the admittedly interesting but totally inane bickering? I thought that was why we came. I also thought that time was somehow important."

Ultra Magnus turned towards the Seeker, angry for being interrupted, but covering it up, as he realized that the flier was right and they were wasting time testing the Cons. But before he could answer, a young, flame coloured mech shouted at Skyraider.

"Shut up Seeker, nobody here is interested in your kind's lies!"

"Hot Rod!" – Kup tried to hold back his hot-headed charge, with little success.

"That's the kind of attitude that made most Seekers not want to join Autobots…" – Skyraider was not afraid to bring his null-rays ostensibly online, for show only of course, and he was satisfied to hear Stormbringer growling beside him. They never regretted defecting but with prejudices they had met even on Earth; and here their story was not even known yet. But understanding the reason didn't make it any easier to deal with it, especially with having to be mindful of his temper as well…

"Everyone stand down and calm your tempers. Hot Rod, you have no business to be here, so I suggest that you find someplace else to blow off your tantrum." – Ultra Magnus seemed to decide to be professional after all, it seemed. – "I agree that the Seekers should do a reconnaissance mission over the Decepticon regions immediately, while we try to find an explanation in whatever way we can."

"Soundwave: trying to contact specific individuals. Imperative: unblocked airwaves for comm systems."

"I'll have you escorted to the comms tower. Wavelength, my comm specialist will be assisting you."

"Acceptable. Silverstorm, Whipping Star: accompany Autobot Trine. In case of attack: consider rebels against cease-fire as enemy."

The assembled Autobot officers looked at the telepath with something close to shock; what he said basically amounted to the Decepticon Seekers fighting beside the Autobots, against their own faction, should the need arise. Not that Silverstorm showed any surprise at it, as he answered with a simple acknowledgment, making the Bots even more aghast. The Seekers left the command center and were all glad when they cleared the underground labyrinth and were able to transform and fly in the suffocating but still more spacious darkness of what was supposedly their home. The Con Seekers were more familiar with the war-torn Cybertron, having left it far later than the other three and they shared the available maps and landmarks that could help them to navigate.

Together, in a makeshift formation they reached the Decepticon territory in less than a breem and started to descend towards Darkmount itself. The darkness was only a slight inconvenience for their sensors that could work on several different wavelengths and protocols; and soon they all detected that something was very-very wrong with the land. Checking back to the Iacon mainframe, Bumblebee ascertained once more that Darkmount should, by all reckoning dead ahead, not far from their position. But it wasn't there, impossible as that was.

"_Skyraider to Iacon, come in."_

"_Iacon here Autobot Seeker, go ahead."_

"_I am transmitting visuals from Darkmount… or what should be Darkmount. Alert all officers."_

The pictures were bad quality, enhanced to the highest level from the straining visual sensors that penetrated the darkness that tried to shyly hide the main Decepticon stronghold. Skyraider knew that Silverstorm was similarly streaming the visuals to Soundwave, but seeing it from more than one pairs of optics didn't make it any less shocking. Where Darkmount used to stand – a magnificent, awe and dread-inspiring, huge artificial mountain of numerous living quarters, hangars, labs, barracks, workshops, torture cells and brigs – there was now a crater that sank almost as deeply into the surface of the planet as tall the original stood on it.

The low quality of the visuals in the pitch black darkness of the all-encompassing, withering smoke gave away no details but the finely tuned sensors of Skyraider told him a bit more; the crater **was** Darkmount, the mountain collapsed unto itself, most of its mass disappearing somewhere to create the crater that they all saw on their instruments, the rest ruined, broken, some of it still identifiable, but mostly just mixed rubble. Reporting it all back to Iacon he could still hardly believe it.

"_Impossible…"_ – came the voice back through their comms, Skyraider recognizing Ultra Magnus's shocked voice. The Seekers were all silent while circling over the huge crater, watching, listening, recording through automatism long ago becoming their second nature. The sheer level of destruction took away all their voices, even the hardened Skyraider's, who thought that he saw everything that the universe – or Primus – could possibly throw at him. How many mechs used to be there, the Seeker wondered, living, working, fighting… staying in the immense fortress and probably most of them deactivated by whatever caused the collapse. Probably the better part of the Decepticon army, close to a thousand individuals even these orns. Even if some of them could escape, it was a fatal blow to their forces, no matter the cease-fire.

"_Seekers, return to Iacon. Don't land. We don't know what caused it or what the conditions in the crater are."_

"_Acknowledged."_

They turned back uneasily, flying back towards Iacon in a strange, uncomfortable silence, shocked to their sparks, for once none of them finding the spark in themselves to make any kind of a remark.

* * *

><p><strong>Bumblebee<strong>

On the way back though, Bumblebee thought that he saw a familiar energy signature on his long-range sensors. Devoting some more energy and attention to them, he recognized it soon.

"_Skyraider, there is a battle – or some fighting at least - at these coordinates."_

"_Affirmative. We divert. Silverstorm… are you coming?"_

"_Of course."_

The Seeker quint diverged from their flight path to Iacon, towards one of the outposts that comprised the outer defense system around Iacon; and they were seeing it from further out, as it was lit by weapons' fire and explosions. It was obviously one of the attacks that caused the negotiations to grind to a halt and by their orders they were all compelled to involve themselves in it.

"_Bumblebee, if you see a likely target, grab it. We could do with an informant."_

"_I'll try."_

They dived towards the fray, picking out individual mechs, null-rays and other guns blazing, relieving the defenders of the small outpost as the attacking Cons turned towards the newly arriving party. There weren't many of them really, a few dozen frantic cons who interestingly rather chose deactivation than retreating from the suddenly beefed-up defenses. None of them looked like an officer and Bumblebee hesitated as to whom to grab – finally he decided on a likely target, who might have been in charge – as much as a haphazardly shooting group needs or has someone in command – and transporting beside him shoot the mech with a low level ray from his gun and grabbed the unconscious frame. Warping away from the melee, he left the others to mop it up, seeing that they had absolutely no problem with it – and flew back to Iacon with his prisoner. He hoped that the mech could shed some light into what happened to the Cons.

Arriving back he gave over the Decepticon to the local forces, uploaded everything that he saw and recorded and made his way to the base common room for some energon. The other Seekers too arrived back soon and choose the same place to discuss what happened, so Bumblebee could hug Stormbringer close – he didn't think that the blue Seeker would have any trouble in a combat but it was still a relief to see and feel him. He didn't even mind Skyraider's playfully scorning smile or the knowing glances of the Con Seekers. He hasn't even realized how much he needed his lover's reassuring presence after the shocking sight of Darkmount.

"Skyraider… what could have caused this much destruction?"

"I have no idea. I never heard anything of a weapon capable of destroying this much, this way."

"Nor have I." – Silverstorm added, looking also uncharacteristically frazzled. – "I mean Megatron always had a so-called weapon of Doom in the making but actually neither of those ever worked as he intended them to."

"O yeah, I can remember that part…" – Skyraider's grin was painful besides sneering, wings nervously fluttering. He could never stay quiet about the idiocy of those weapons and it resulted in many and painful punishments.

"It could have been something Shockwave did." – Stormbringer spoke up ponderingly from sipping his energon. – "His labs were in Darkmount."

"But he never did actual weapons' research. A crater this size… it must have been a weapon of some kind."

"I'm not sure… I've been wondering. Where did all that matter go? A weapon… I can't imagine any weapon making the whole mound disappear…" – Skyraider was still trying to make sense of it. – "We must go back there, unless that prisoner knows something. I keep feeling that we are missing something."

"We do." – Whipping Star was silent as usual and when he spoke it inevitably surprised everyone.

"What do you mean?" – But apparently the black and copper Seeker didn't feel like elaborating on his cryptic statement, no matter the rest of the company staring at him for kliks. He wasn't in the slightest flustered by the glances, sitting there calmly, drinking his energon like nobody was around. He was strange even in the eccentric company of Seekers.

"Sorry if I intrude or something… but… why are you so quiet all the time?" – Bumblebee couldn't stop his curiosity asking the strange Seeker.

Silverstorm looked questioningly to his brother, but seeing that he wasn't going to speak answered the question himself with an apologetic flick of a wing.

"He never spoke much. In fact our creators thought for a long time that he couldn't. We talk through the comm but he simply doesn't feel like saying anything aloud."

"That's strange." – Skyraider couldn't even imagine a reason for not talking at all. But Bumblebee, feeling something queer, ventured to voice the thought that just came to his mind. – "Do you only speak when it is not just you…?"

The red optics flickered onto him as Whipping Star deigned them with a second reaction in one sitting, probably a record for him, by curtly nodding. Then he was back to his usual placid self, disregarding the continuing stares…

"_What do you mean by that Bee?"_

"_Doesn't he sound like… I don't know but somewhat prophetic? Like he conveys something that is not himself?"_

"_I don't know, he is pretty laconic for an oracle."_

Soundwave arrived then, and they filled him in on the latest happenings, while he provided information from the captured Cons. It wasn't much, as they were mostly crazed and almost delirious, like frightened by something immense – not an easy feat for a Decepticon. They spoke of an explosion deep down somewhere in Darkmount, but the full collapse came later if they could be believed. But it was clear that the attacks weren't part of anything organized; in fact the whole Decepticon army looked like it was falling apart. There was no command that they could find, no organizing force behind the attacks, no officers that Soundwave could reach. Shockwave disappeared, like he was swallowed by the ruins of Darkmount – seeing the rubble they all agreed that the idea was not really figurative, but quite likely a fact.

* * *

><p><strong>Skyraider<strong>

As he sat at the table, Skyraider couldn't forget the cryptic words of the Con Seeker – probably because they echoed his own suspicions that they must go back to find out what happened. He couldn't understand the overly cautious Autobot leader who forbade them to go near the crater; this way they could do nothing to find out what caused the destruction. They didn't come to Cybertron to sit in the common room and get picked on by prejudiced mechs. Hot Rod, the one who 'greeted' them was continuing to be an annoyingly rude glitch and grabbed every occasion to insult and provoke the Seekers – for whatever reasons it remained his secret. Probably on general principles. He wasn't even discouraged by the twins deciding to teach him manners after he picked on Skyraider; it was the sort of teaching that got them all landed at first in med-bay, then in the brig for a cycle. Sideswipe was enthusiastic though to repeat the teaching as many times as the glitch needed.

Bumblebee and Stormbringer was in their room, the Con Seekers doing whatever they had to with Soundwave – so he was alone and bored. Finally, he decided to go back for another look, even though it meant disregarding orders. But then, he wasn't a stranger to that and he was fairly sure that Ultra Magnus's brand of discipline was nowhere near to what he often got from Megatron, and it was important to go back to Darkmount. Leaving the base was easy, and the first query came through his comm when he was already outside Autobot territory, halfway through the Decepticon base, ordering him back.

"_Autobot Seeker you left the base unauthorized. Turn back and land in Iacon."_

"_I won't go back before I took some samples. We can't find out anything by sitting in Iacon and we were sent to find out what happened."_

"_Skyraider, you are in trouble. Turn back now."_

"_Are you deaf or deliberately ignoring what I said?"_

"_I am ordering you back. You can take up your problems with the commander, as it is proper."_

"_I can see that Autobots retained their bureaucratic methods from before the war. Unsurprising. This way nobody is responsible for anything… but nothing gets done either."_

"_It is not bureaucracy to expect soldiers to follow orders." _– The deep voice of Ultra Magnus took over the mech on duty at comms.

"_But it is to issue superfluous and pointless orders. We were sent here to find out what happened and not to twiddle our thumbs at the base while you nurse your hurt ego. Btw I already have news for you and you won't like it; the crater has grown since last time."_

"_Impossible. Your sensors must be malfunctioning."_

"_Insulting me won't make it not happening, only make me angry. It has grown and my instruments check out working perfectly."_

Skyraider circled over the crater, searching for a safe spot to land. Despite of his bravado, he wasn't at all comfortable with the idea of landing on the totally unknown land, especially in the light of his latest discovery. He chose a spot that looked like normal – or what passed for normal in this Pithole, a ruined, slagged, acid-etched piece of metal that probably used to be a highway pass eons ago – and landed on it, approaching the suspicious part of the crater's edge on foot. It did have seriously weird readings and there was a definite line that separated normal from affected area. Standing on the edge he tried to take a few samples from the somewhat even more rusted looking metal on the other side of this line, but by the time of the third sample he took the scientist in him was having a really bad feeling.

He had seen something like this long ago. The scientific community was sure that after millenias of decontaminating battle and ruthless culling they got rid of the disease that they never found the cure for – but apparently the mutated nanites of cosmic rust remained hidden somewhere and escaped. He had a strong suspicion of exactly where… Shockwave probably did research nanites and his labs were at the underground part of Darkmount. Had the nanites escaped (the explosion the Cons babbled about?), they would have had plenty of time to eat away structures before anyone discovered their marks; the fortress was designed to house hundreds of thousands of soldiers, but by this time of the war hardly a single thousand was living there, mostly on the upper levels. If the nanites corroded away the whole foundation of the fortress they could multiply boundlessly and cause the structure to collapse in on itself; and explain the mystery of the lot of missing material.

"_Iacon, come in. I have the worst news so far, so don't even start bickering. The crater probably contains cosmic rust nanites. It is what probably caused the place to collapse."_

The answer was a deadly quiet on the other side of the comm link for an endless, tense breem.

"_Affirmative. Soundwave just told us that they found records of such experiments among Shockwave's reports. Have you taken samples?"_

"_I have. As safely as I could manage."_

"_Return to Iacon now. Land at these coordinates, not the usual entry point."_

When Skyraider landed, he found the obviously unused entry point deserted, but with instructions where to go and what to do. He tried to argue at first but was sure that he would lose this arguments; nobody would take chances with cosmic rust. Had he not complied there would be some who wouldn't hesitate to deactivate him, to stop the disease from spreading into the Autobot base. Besides he secretly approved the safety measures and only argued to lodge his objections. Not that it made the whole thing any better; he was in for a who knows how long stay in the solitary containment cell, designated as quarantine for the duration.

"I can't believe that you haven't found a real quarantine unit." – He shouted through the securely locked and airtight door. That slagger Hot Rod was openly laughing at him before Sunstreaker sucker punched him at the mouth and Sideswipe literally kicked him off from the brig proper. Even just listening to that was a satisfying feeling, just as the fact that the twins refused to leave him alone, providing him company, even if it was just through a door. It said a lot about their commitment and it made the frustrated Seeker a bit happier.

"It is a military base. They have med bay for injuries, not for diseases. You know how rare those are in Cybertron." – Prowl was trying to explain him the situation but it didn't make him any happier about it. – "There has never been a need for quarantine."

"_Take it as punishment for disobeying orders."_ – fragging Ultra Magnus would never admit to petty revenge, but his voice was pretty smug over the comm line.

"How long do I have to sit here?" – Skyraider ignored the Autobot Commander and focused on Prowl.

"You know how long it takes for the cosmic rust to appear."

"Frag. That can be several orns even. Can I get some equipment at least to examine the samples?"

"Of course. We are bringing over the scientists from Earth to help as well."

"Good idea. We will have to find a cure this time; there is no way such a big infected place can be contained. Not to mention all the Cons spreading it unknowingly…"

* * *

><p><strong>Silverstorm<strong>

"Task: check Shockwave's reports. Goal: find experiments capable of causing observed destruction."

"Okay… I do wonder what he managed to set off that caused this..."

They settled down to read through vorns' worth of reports in Shockwave's particular style to find, as the humans would say, a needle in the haystack. It was boring, hard, tedious and most of all slow; the one-opticked mech tended to describe his experiments in a roundabout way, only rarely committing the real details and goals into writing – those he usually discussed with Megatron and never wrote down. They were at it for several joors when the news came that Skyraider identified cosmic rust nanites in the crater. It made their work far easier, just to check if Shockwave was working on these or not for some experiment.

They soon found that he did experiment with it indeed and the exact way too; he tried to modify or rather to reprogram the nanites to differentiate between living and nonliving metal and hence attack only Transformers or only structures. According to his report he succeeded but never got around to use them for sabotage as the time-coding of the nanites were unsuccessful and it meant that they wouldn't stop multiplying, thereby making pretty suicidal sabotage weapons that would attack not only the enemy but their own side as well.

"Ultra Magnus, we suggest to bring all the science bots here, because the disease must be stopped. So far we think it is the variant that attacks nonliving material, so we are safe; but as the growing of the crater shows, if we don't find a cure, it can destroy the whole planet."

"Agreed. If it comes to that, we can all move to Earth, but I'd prefer to save Cybertron if we can."

"While the scientists work on a solution, the nanites can be destroyed by energon or plasma bombs. We cannot hope to contain them spreading at this point, but we can slow it down."

"We don't have that much energon here…"

"But you do have a space bridge now and Earth can provide energon abundantly."

While the Autobots set up a steady supply of energon from Earth and set every bot making energon bombs, Soundwave managed to access a frequency to reach all surviving Decepticons, ordering them to the older, abandoned base in Kaon after strict decontamination procedures. It was agreed that both because of the possible spreading of the disease and general enmity between the troops they should stay away from each other. The Kaon base filled up slowly, as many Decepticons were deactivated in Darkmount or in the following skirmishes and power struggles; even after a few orns less than a third of the former army was collected or accounted for. Some groups kept on attacking the Autobots, blaming them for what happened at Darkmount but they were fewer still and dwindling in number all the time.

A few orns later Silverstorm discovered two Seeker trines among the ruins of Vos, and a pair from a broken one hiding in the Great Rift. They were also brought to the Kaon base where they were glad to see that the cosmic rust was indeed the variety that wasn't dangerous to living Cybertronians, although it did occasionally attack some structures at the decontamination point. The surviving trines brought the remaining number of Seekers to an all time low, even if he knew about some who still lived among the Neutrals. Beside the disease it was the other main worry that Silverstorm kept thinking of; the survival of their kind has never been in such grave danger.

* * *

><p><strong>Stormbringer<strong>

"Sky' is in the brig for some reason. Come on, we have to check what's going on."

"In the brig? What did he do?"

"I don't know. Sunstreaker wasn't exactly talkative."

They quickly made their way to the Iacon brig, where they found Sunstreaker and Sideswipe in a foul mood, keeping the bored and getting claustrophobic Seeker company and occasionally kicking out the more obnoxious Autobots, like Hot Rod and Springer. Stormbringer was faintly horrified to hear that their Trine leader might have contracted cosmic rust; the disease still, after billions of vorns didn't have a cure. But fortunately soon the nanites were determined not to infect living Cybertronian bodies and Skyraider was let out of the brig and instead holed up with the other scientists in the labs to find a cure for their planet.

All the flight capable mechs were also brought over from Earth, to try and contain the spreading of the disease with its deadly nanites by dousing it from air with energon bombs. It was quite a volatile mix – and not just the bombs - with the naïve and flighty Aerialbot youngsters and the callous, deadly Con Seekers and the triple-changers thrown together by necessity. To say that they didn't work well together was a serious understatement, and the calmer ones, like Stormbringer, Silverbolt and Silverstorm had their servos full with schedules, peacemaking and discipline. It didn't help that they had to fly almost continuously and in their rest periods they were all tired and consequently short of tempers as well.

With tiredness came not only tempers but mistakes too. While it caused no real trouble when Ramjet dumped his cargo of bombs onto a completely different place than he was supposed to, it was more dangerous when Fireflight crashed into a canyon wall and fell into the rust-infected area. Bumblebee made a similar mistake by warping to the wrong place and stepping into patch covered with the rust nanites. Coming back to the base they were both decontaminated of course, as usual, but the next orn when he came out of recharge, the yellow Seeker stared at a rusted patch on his leg armour, at first absentmindedly trying to rub it off, but failing - and with a sinking feeling realizing what it was.

The nanites mutated once again.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: Cosmic rust has almost as many variations in canon and fandom as Starscream's temper; from an irritating but harmless itch to a deadly disease. For my plot, I went with the latter, and included the mutated nanites version [Shockwave originally created two separate strains, one which attacks living metal (aka Cybertronians) and the other attacks nonliving metal (aka structures). At the explosion only the second type was released - or so they thought. But when mechs go around they can carry both types of nanites even the one that does not infect them. And of course both strains can mutate at any time.]. If it is confusing, please note to me in review or message.


	19. Secrets

**Note**: from Chapter 10 onwards Skyraider = ex!Starscream; Stormbringer = ex!Thundercracker and Bumblebee = ex!Skywarp albeit a little differently.

"normal speech"

"_comm"_

_::bond/gestalt link::_

* * *

><p><strong>19. Secrets<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Bumblebee<strong>

He sat on the berth mute, frozen in disbelief staring at the hardly visible, discoloured, deceivingly innocent-looking patch on the yellow metal. There was no way it could have come from anywhere else, decontamination removed all rust or dirt that only cling to his armour. He distinctly remembered the rusted piece of metal that he stumbled into, touching him exactly the same place where the dark spot appeared. In retrospect it might have been a distorted husk of a mech with an almost unrecognizable limb sticking out of it. Lifting his gaze from the discoloured patch he looked bleakly to the berth, where Stormbringer just started to move on it as he came out of recharge. If I got it, Bumblebee thought, there was no way he didn't, not after the evening and night together. Cosmic rust was highly contagious; a casual touch might not give it over if one was lucky, but prolonged and deep contact surely. Stormbringer noticed his stricken gaze at once, frowning at his serious mood.

"What's the matter?"

Bumblebee still couldn't talk, he felt his vocalizer frozen in terror, so instead he mutely pointed to the offending, ominously dark spot. It didn't take long for the blue Seeker to realize the importance of it…

"NOOO!"

They both felt Skyraider's suddenly flaring worry bouncing back through the trine bond, in reaction to Stormbringer's outburst. Bumblebee warped to the door at once to lock it before he or anyone else could come in. They haven't met the day before since the two of them came back to the base, Skyraider was still in the lab with the others, he couldn't have contracted the disease yet - and it must remain so. Who else but Stormbringer did he meet up…?

"_Sky, Bumblebee has a rusted patch on his armour, going deeper than surface infection. Don't try to come in, we locked the door."_

"_Impossible! The nanites only attack nonliving metal!"_

"_They must have mutated again… or I don't know. But it doesn't look good."_

Bumblebee furiously thought of who else he could have infected, and has to be quarantined as well. He remembered meeting with Ravage as the panther was going out, so Soundwave must be contacted. Then he reported to Prowl and who knows who else the tactician met… it seemed impossible to contain the infection. But they must try anyway.

"_Prowl, I seemed to have been infected with cosmic rust – we think the nanites either mutated again or I found another strain of it. I did bump into something that could have been a mech. For now, we locked ourselves into our room. Did you meet anyone else after we spoke yesterday evening?"_

"_No. I spoke to the Prime on comm and he ordered me off duty. I've been in my room since. In this case I will remain here and notify the others. I see no sign of it so far on myself."_

"_I'll comm Soundwave - I met Ravage on her way out."_

As it happened, they were very lucky; Ravage only met with Pointblank and neither of them with anyone else; Ravage was notified while still out and therefore all the possibly affected bots were insolated in their rooms. If it could be called luck. Certainly it was for the personnel of the base as the possibly deadly disease could have spread to everyone in less fortunate circumstances; but the affected mechs didn't consider it quite that way. As it was though, they could quarantine the possibly affected few mechs in their own rooms and upgrade the security measures concerning the spreading of the disease.

As he sat on the berth, hardly moving any from the spot where he was breems ago, Bumblebee felt Stormbringer's arms around him and hugged the blue Seeker back, burrowing into his chassis. Neither of them felt like talking, quietly comforting each other was the most they had strength for. It was just… they felt that after all the troubles, hardships, problems and enmity they didn't deserve this. Of course they knew that life didn't work that way and hardships didn't get compensated for automatically; they could enjoy only what they carved out for themselves. And after everything, fate or misfortune could foul up even the best laid plans. Still, to think that they only have a groon at most together and no more… it was an unbearable thought.

* * *

><p><strong>Skyraider<strong>

In scant five orns all the scientists became harried, tired, recharge-deprived. Not only they hardly ever left the labs where they tried even the most outrageous ideas for a cure but they had to constantly explain the situation to the leaders and suggest ideas for slowing the spread of the disease, for contamination, disinfection – and now that the nanites have mutated find a cure too to save their race from extinction. The twofold attack from the rust nanites suddenly threatened both the planet itself and every Cybertronian on it; and if no solution was to be found only the ones remaining on Earth - a scant few dozen mechs including fortunately the Prime too - were really safe. They couldn't even go back by the space bridge, none of them, for infecting Earth with either strain of the nanites would mean the death of the Human civilization as well. Though they had no news of Shockwave's fate, every mechs in both bases cursed his name to the Pit and wished him to be there already.

All the newly quarantined mechs were examined remotely and diagnosed with the other strain of cosmic rust, similar to the one described in the pre-war medical journals, spreading with differing speed within their individual frames. While Stormbringer shoved hardly any signs of it, Bumblebee was after only a few orns covered with discoloured, powdery, crumbling patches and starting to lose the mobility in his limbs as the disease attacked the joints as well. Even if cure was found immediately he would have a long recovery ahead – and they didn't even have a promising idea to start working on, much less a workable solution. Suddenly the dreaded but in the lab somewhat abstract disease became much more personal.

The war and even the negotiations were almost forgotten, although the Prime occasionally tried to discuss it with Soundwave – but mostly the cooperation came to them by necessity and not according to set rules. Not even the Decepticons thought of warring any more as the two bases faced a common enemy that could not even be seen, and when it was felt, it was already too late. Even the hotheads gave up blaming anyone for the situation and bleakly worked in making energon bombs, transporting them, decontamination – and isolating the ones affected but at the same time caring for them. But for all the work they had to do, mechs didn't socialize any more, personal lives and plans seemed to grind to a halt. The common rooms were empty, everyone hiding in their rooms whenever they could and communicated through the comm system only. Only the scientists had to meet orn by orn in the labs, risking their own infection but working on a cure with a single-minded determination.

But the twins seemingly didn't care about the disease. They kept coming to the labs, brought Skyraider energon - and pestered him until he drank it - dragged him out when he was ready to fall into recharge standing there and lay with him while he rested. They both had their duties on the base but beside that they kept him company while not taking his attention away from the all important research. When he came around thinking of it, Skyraider was deeply touched by their commitment and care and more than once he contemplated in time telling them the truth about himself. He would have to do it sooner or later – or give up the relationship that was fast becoming more than a casual fling.

Among the myriad things to do, he never really realized the point when he started to contemplate a serious relationship with them – but once it happened it went on in the background of his processor even when he was deep in the research. He started to plan out ways to slowly let his secret slip to them bit by bit, making them more amenable to give up the old enmity, to get used to his new persona – and at the end accept him to what he really was. Not quite the cruel wartime warrior, not quite the pre-war geek scientist, but truly a new person: Skyraider, who contained both the others but was something else too.

* * *

><p><strong>Stormbringer<strong>

"Don't move, Bee. That makes it worse."

"It itches…" – Bumblebee tried to school his voice again, hating the whine that was all too coming from him all too often lately. He seemingly didn't do anything but complain all the time, while Storm' had his own condition to be worried about and he hated himself for it. But the blue Seeker hardly let him move, doing everything instead… not that they had a lot of work to do locked as they were, into their own room, fighting with worry, boredom, claustrophobia and lack of flying. Only wait, wait and wait some more, hoping that the geeks would discover the cure soon. It was a miracle that they weren't arguing or quarreling yet, as both their tempers were starting to fray.

"I know… tell me where and I'll cover it up again with the collodion."

Stormbringer could hardly look at Bumblebee without showing his deepening desperation. He didn't want to indicate to the yellow Seeker just how bad his own condition was and how much he was terrified of loosing him (again, a small voice whispered in his mind that almost made him whimper). The thick solution that they were given didn't do anything against the cosmic rust itself, only temporarily relieved the itching that it caused. He sat by the unmoving form of his lover and started to coat the newest patches on his armour, touching gently the discoloured places. They recharged chaste lately, since Bee could hardly move any more without some part of his armour crumbling away. He was the most serious case among the affected dozen or so mechs and there was talk already to put him into stasis, as the cure was still not even in the forecasts, much less in the makings.

"_Storm, we must decide now whether to put him into a stasis pod or not." _– Skyraider's tired voice contacted him exactly about this topic. The Trine leader was also terrified of loosing them, no matter how well he tried to hide it and Stormbringer heard it in his voice. They hardly found each other again, hardly started to be a real Trine again… he'd survive it if they were deactivated, because the bond was still not as strong as in a fully functional Trine, they haven't done the ritual again… but he would feel it strongly none the less.

"_I know. I think we have to. His condition is worse by the joor."_

"_Tell him… and we'll do it straight after. Do you want to…"_

"_No. I'll stay online while I can. It progresses much slower in me."_

"_I know… and I have no idea why. It drives me crazy… I keep thinking that it is important somehow. But I checked everything I could think of that's different between the two of you."_

"Bee… you remember what I told you the orn before? About the stasis pod?"

"I do… but I'm afraid."

"Of what? You'd have a better chance in it… it pains me to see you deteriorate so fast."

"I'm afraid that I won't see you again… they never found a cure to this before. I'm afraid that we only have while… until it overcomes me. I don't want to loose even that little time together…"

Stormbringer carefully hugged his weakening lover close. – "Don't be pessimistic. They will find the cure and we will have a life together. I refuse to believe otherwise." – even though he wasn't that sure of it, he dared not show his doubts to Bumblebee. Their roles seemed to have changed as the ever optimistic yellow Seeker fell into melancholy while the usually more negative, liable for depression Stormbringer tried to keep his mood up, showing the optimism that he hardly felt.

"I'm glad we haven't bonded yet. I'd hate to pull you with me when I go." – Bumblebee mumbled almost fearfully.

"We are in it together, even without the bond… and if it comes to that, I'd actually prefer to go out together. Love… I can't lose you the second time… I had you before to pull me out of depression but if you go too… what will remain to me?"

There were no good answers for that, they both knew. At the end Bumblebee agreed to be put into a stasis pod in which he could exist almost indefinitely – hopefully until they found the cure. It wasn't easy for the blue Seeker to see the unmoving form of his love through the clear top of the pod but unable to touch him. It was even harder to bear the quarantine alone, even as Skyraider and Silverstorm too tried to converse with him whenever they could. But of course neither of them could replace Bumblebee, whose stasis pod stood in the room as a sad memento.

* * *

><p><strong>Sunstreaker<strong>

"Sides… there is something I've been thinking a lot lately. Do you remember when I first drew Skyraider?" – the twins were resting in their rooms after a full cycle of helping out in the stores, too early yet to find Skyraider in the labs. Sunstreaker was sketching the Seeker in that setting until he stopped with the marker frozen in one spot. The drawing was not yet coloured and the winged shape in the middle could have been any Seeker… if not for a big shuttle standing beside him, the giant frame only shown by some sketched lines, just as the lab around them. But together they awoke something in Sunstreaker's mind that retained each and every piece that he created, in detail.

"With his trine? Yeah, I remember."

"For a while when I was sketching him it felt like drawing someone else. Somehow the whole thing was, I don't know, familiar."

"We've seen Seeker Trines before, Sunny. They all have almost the same frame."

"Almost. But not quite. They do have slight differences in shape, armour, augmentation, changes in time and made during repairs. And you know that I notice such details."

"Yeah, you have the optics for those. But what do you mean, how could they be familiar? Two of them had never been on Earth before, only Bumblebee's frame could be familiar to you."

"I know. That's why I dismissed the idea. But look at this." – he held out the half-done picture to his twin, something he never did, an ominous sign in itself. Sideswipe took the pad and examined the scene depicted on it. – "Doesn't this remind you to something?"

"No, I can't say it does. Better tell me what it reminds you of."

"Seekers are not famous for being in science. In fact I only ever heard of one who became a scientist – and who used to be Skyfire's partner. Now, look at Skyraider and him together, in the lab, working on that cure…"

It didn't take long for Sideswipe to realize exactly whom Sunstreaker meant. He gave the matter some thought but eventually dismissed it with a firm helmshake.

"But Sunny… Starscream was deactivated. Skyraider came from a neutral colony, and he could have been a scientist there; neutrals don't fight."

"I know that. It is what I thought first when I asked myself this question. But then I compared an old drawing that I made of Starscream and this one now. Sides'… only their colours are different. Only the colours."

"Coincidence… if they are all similar, then they can have the same frame too…"

"Okay, then consider this: the supposedly non-fighting, neutral Skyraider was an absolute ace in the air during the last few battles we had. If there are only just a few scientist Seekers, then how many could be that are both scientists and warriors?"

"Silverstorm? He is similarly diversely talented too. That old belief that Seekers are just war machines can be nothing more than a slogan the Senate feed to the populace, you know? Neutrals have always had the time and the resources to pursue other careers as well."

It was Sunstreaker's turn to ponder his twin's arguments. He didn't have more than a very-very slight suspicion unsupported by any hard facts, while Sideswipe's answers were logical and believable.

"So you believe that I'm just seeing ghosts."

"I think we would recognize good ole' Screamer after so much Jet Judo. I miss him sometimes, you know? The Coneheads just don't have the same… flair than he had and Silverstorm is far too tame for a Seeker."

"Whereas Skyraider has that fire in him too, ehh? Strange coincidence."

"Nahh, 'Raider is much calmer than Screamer ever was. Can you imagine him talking calmly to Optimus or Magnus, forgetting his paranoia? Or not backstabbing them either? Why would have want to defect anyway?"

"Hmm. You might be right. He is quite different in temperament."

"Hey, Sunny… they can be… I don't know, related maybe?"

"Related? How?"

"Well, I heard something of them being sparked after the war started…"

Sunstreaker looked at his twin like seeing him the first time in his life, with incredulous, disbelieving optics. The accompanying growl was just his automatic reaction to the hated nickname – the third time he couldn't pass it up.

"You aren't serious… if you think what I think that you think."

"Why not? I heard from somewhere that Seekers bear sparklings easier than we heal an injury. Screamer if I heard well was certainly promiscuous enough for an incident… or two." – Sideswipe smirked at his twin's shocked face. He didn't really mean the idea seriously but it was fun to kid his twin with the notion. The idea of having Starscream's kid in one's berth was just marginally better than having him in it.

"I think that you are an idiot. That… 'kid' is more experienced than any of us. And I haven't heard that rumor, so you are most likely totally wrong."

"Hey, you started it with Skyraider having a secret. I'm just thinking up ideas."

"A secret, yeah. I'm sure that he has one… but you are still a glitch."

"If he has one we could beguile it out of him. We just have to be careful."

"How?"

"I think I have an idea…"

* * *

><p><strong>Silverstorm<strong>

In the semi-darkness of the smoke-choked atmosphere two jets flew together, occasionally against each other, rolling, looping and displaying many of the common dogfighting maneuvers in their paths; but their weapons stayed resolutely offline, even though they had different faction markings on their wings. One of them, the lighter one, although the thick smoke billowing around them darkened his silvery colours, was obviously far more experienced, easily getting the other one in his – offline – weapon sights, only marking the hits by calling them out aloud. But he was more concerned about perfecting the other's technique…

"No, don't do it like that. It is slower and puts you in danger if your opponent has a wingmate. Roll like this and flip to the right thus…"

"And here I am!" – Air Raid's exultant voice caused a slight wince in the elder Seeker's audio, but he forgave the younger his exuberance. It was hard not to, seeing the enthusiasm with which he wanted to learn even in these atrocious conditions, burdened with the danger of the disease. In fact that was the main reason Silverstorm lured the young Aerialbot out, to just simply fly a bit, be away from his brothers' grumbling about the fragging Con Seekers – and get to know him a bit more. His usual calm has so far failed to placate Slingshot, who seemed to cling to his anger towards the Seeker and their time with the rest of Air Raid's brothers were always uncomfortable and awkward affairs.

"Well done. You are pretty good for the fact that nobody taught you so far." – talking was not the easiest whilst flying but then he did want to stick close to the youngster, who incidentally didn't seem to mind it at all.

"Skyraider's Trine had done practice with us, but it is far better one on one. I mean we did formations together, but dogfighting is more fun."

"Fun indeed…listen, Raid, fighting isn't supposed to be fun…it is what we have to do, what we must be good at… but we don't do it for enjoyment."

"But… but it is fun…"

"Playing is fun, flying is fun, fragging is fun, being with friends or brothers is fun… but fighting shouldn't be. Because when you are good at it, it will end with someone deactivated. And that is not fun. Have you ever lost a comrade, a wingmate, a friend?"

"I…no. But when I fight and I'm good at it, then it's the enemy who gets deactivated."

"Who is that enemy? A groon ago it was me. If we weren't plotting against Megatron at the time, we would've gone after you and not for a frag either. Although Fireflight would have been the main target, he is the easiest to take out and there goes Superion."

"Wait, wait… you were plotting against Megatron? And… uhh… I guess I see what you mean."

"We have… for quite a while."

"But… but why? I mean you obviously followed him… right?"

"What do you know about why we followed Megatron, young one?"

"Uhh… I'm not sure… I mean I heard about what happened with Vos and stuff…" – Air Raid was a bit nervous. He knew from Skyraider and Skyfire that the topic of Vos was a volatile one for Seekers and he didn't want the mood to go sour between them. He enjoyed learning from the older Seeker and he enjoyed his company too, after a while almost able to forget his disappointment with Skyraider.

"It has never been about Vos for the two of us… not directly, anyway. We were sparked after the war started. But Decepticons didn't just join up to get revenge for something. Do you know for example that Decepticons came up with the idea that every mech should be equal? Prime has been spouting the 'freedom is the right of all sentient being' slogan but in fact Autobots came from the ruling classes, while Decepticons from the lower ones… and the lowest classes have never been free…we joined for ideologies, for freedom, for equal rights. Some for revenge, yes, it is true. Hard to side with the ones who obliterated your home and most of your kin."

"I didn't know that… but Megatron, as I knew him wasn't very big on equality either…?"

"You only saw him as a mad tyrant… and lately he was one too. That's why we plotted against him, because he forgot what we started to fight for – while your Prime has actually adopted some of our beliefs. By the end of the war Megatron was actively against the tenets we set out to attain."

"And what did you do…?"

"That's a bit early to say… and it isn't just our secret. Let's just say that we, Seekers in general have our own goals and factions sometimes take a secondary place in order to reach them."

'So… Skyraider's Trine was also in it somehow, right? I've always thought he was hiding something…"

"We all have our secrets, young one. Live as long as we have and you'll collect some too. Their secrets are not mine to tell."

The two jets reluctantly turned towards the base again. It was good to fly freely for a little while, but they had duties that had to be done. Air Raid mused on the way back about what the older Seeker said. What common secret could they have with Skyraider who had never been on Earth before? How could they even meet with the Decepticon Seekers? He couldn't find any answers for those questions and his searching for the explanation kindled his brothers' curiosity too.

* * *

><p><strong>Skyraider<strong>

The twins were there again, waiting for him to finish for the orn and get back to their shared quarters. At first they got roomed separately, but after much convincing eventually even the obtuse Autobot quartermaster understood that the three of them were going to recharge – and else – together and he'd better provide suitable accommodation for it. He was just over a pretty sad and quite uneasy discussion with Stormbringer over the comm – the blue Seeker was sinking into depression real fast since Bumblebee was put into stasis. Coupled with his growing claustrophobia and sky hunger he was in a pretty foul mood and Skyraider couldn't tell anything to make him better. Instead his mood seemed to infect him too, until he felt bad to be able to go out and fly, not to mention having his lovers around…

"A credit for your thoughts."

"They don't worth that much." – he snorted unhappily through the vents, wings dropping low. – "I just talked to Storm'…"

"How is he taking it?"

"As bad as can be expected. Lock up a Seeker in a room for orns with his love frozen in stasis with an incurable disease. He is depressed. He's lost someone once before…"

"You know a lot about him. You are… brothers?"

"No. More like… sort of cousins. I'm not really in the mood to explain all about Seeker relationships but believe me grounders always find it complex."

"It is because of the trines, right?"

"And because trine partnerships don't always mean bonded partnerships but sparklings can came from both. It's really kinda complicated; Common Cybertronian doesn't even have the correct terms for all the relationships."

Two pairs of blue optics flashed towards each other, seeing that the Seeker was in a mood for some pestering, two pairs of talented and willing servos kept up the light caresses that made him mellow out and relax between them. They didn't want to 'face Sky right now, he looked dead tired and not in the mood either, concerned to the spark about his wingmates; but keeping up the soft petting of the wings they might be able to find out some more of his secrets.

"What about your creators? Were they neutral? I never heard much about the neutral colonies." – Sideswipe kept his tone light, lazy, like the question was inconsequential, just to fill up time. Still, he felt the wing under his servo twitch slightly at the question and he kept fondling it to alleviate the tension. There was something to dig up there, he thought, soothing the twitch away.

"They were deactivated when Vos was bombed. Very few of us are fortunate like Silverstorm to actually know their creators."

"We don't know them either."

"I meant few, as in few at this point of the war. Not just Seekers."

"Guess that's true… I can count on one servo those who actually have a living relative and know about it too. Like Prowl and Bluestreak…"

"Yeah… same with Seekers, although we are almost all related on some basic level. But that doesn't really count."

"And how did you get to be neutral then? We always thought that Megatron recruited all the remaining Seekers."

"He thought that he did. Megatron had a lot of false ideas. Like thinking that Seekers would be on his side forever."

"What do you mean?"

"Seekers were considered as military droids by most Autobots. Obviously it put us on the other, the rebelling side – who wants to be a slave when offered freedom? But things changed during the war. The agreement that we made with Optimus Prime showed that he knows the error of those ways. Once that was cleared what did Megatron have to keep the Seekers on his side?"

"The crimes that they committed?" – Sunstreaker was frowning fiercely. He so wasn't buying this excuse no matter if it had some grain of truth in it.

"O yeah, tell me anyone who didn't commit a crime during the war." – was the Seeker's answer. His voice was challenging, his wings perked up high and vibrating with a nervous intensity, despite of the still caressing servos.

Sideswipe decided to be a bit more diplomatic than his hotheaded twin. – "I guess we all did some things in the war that we are not proud of. Doesn't mean they were crimes... right, Sunny?"

"To me it sounds more like whitewashing."

"Then it is whitewashing your crimes too."

"I don't have crimes. I am a warrior and I fought with the Decepticons."

"And the Con Seekers were warriors too and fought against Autobots… who says which is crime and which is justifiable?"

"At least we never tortured prisoners or experimented on them."

"Experiments… that was Shockwave. And he had as many Decepticon test subjects as Autobots; and none of them was willing."

The twins looked at each other, shocked. – "He used his own soldiers for… ughh…"

"Shockwave was a cold-sparked slagger. Nobody was exempt from his experiments, only Megatron."

"You seem to know a lot about them… for a Neutral."

Skyraider sat up, and although he didn't remove the servos from his wings, they hiked up somewhat, a bit nervous, like his faceplate for a klik. Then he looked like resigned, glancing into each of their optics silently pleading, before continuing.

"Look, I know that you are suspicious – I can almost feel it. Can we postpone talking about it until this crisis is over? I swear I don't want to cover things up, but the time is not right to talk about it."

"So you do have secrets."

"Yes. I do… can you trust me enough to keep it for a little while?"

"All right then… we'll talk about it later." – the twins glanced each other, silently agreeing that a chance should be given for the sake of the mech sitting with them, whom they came to… well, love was not yet what they called it but liking was already passed. They settled down together into a much needed recharge, postponing secrets and troubles for a while.


	20. Ties

**Note**: from Chapter 10 onwards Skyraider = ex!Starscream; Stormbringer = ex!Thundercracker and Bumblebee = ex!Skywarp albeit a little differently.

"normal speech"

"_comm"_

_::bond/gestalt link::_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 20. Ties<strong>

* * *

><p><strong> Skyfire<strong>

Despite of the circumstances, it was a surprisingly pleasant feeling to work with Star… Skyraider in the lab again. He swore to use the new designation for the Seeker even in the privacy of his processor, but it was hard to break so old habits. It certainly helped his mood that the Seeker wasn't ignoring him, sneering or growling all the time – anyone seeing them working together would have thought of old, well-acquainted colleagues complementing each other perfectly. He, himself might have termed it as friends again, albeit still a bit tentatively. Their professional relationship seemed near perfect, like all those ages ago and they started to get closer as friends too again. Not that it ever got any easier to bear when he had to see those fragging twins bouncing into the lab and good-naturedly kidnap his partner from there, the three of them obviously closer to each other every passing orn.

But Skyfire learned to hide his disappointment and to suppress the love that was not returned any more. He would be glad if they could be friends again at least – it wasn't easy but he would take whatever he could. Anything was better than that cold, sneering, angry Decepticon who pushed him away, while calling him a traitor. Anything better than the still cold, frustrated and scowling mech who ignored him after informing him of not being interested in his advances any more. If he couldn't have his Star, then he would come to like being with Skyraider; a colleague, a fellow scientist and maybe, eventually, hopefully a friend again.

"Have you given a thought of why the rust nanites attack so differently Bumblebee? No other mech is as strongly affected as him." – Skyfire had an idea but he was curious about the Seeker's input on it.

"The only thing that's different with him is the transplant. Must have been that somehow… his protoform matter is weaker to resist the rust nanites, and it must be because of the different spark frequency than his original one." – Skyraider felt that somehow it was a key to solve this case but so far he had no luck in discovering how. But it seemed that Skyfire thought along similar lines.

"Exactly. Before, I thought that we'd all react the same way. And that made me to think of organics, how they deal with diseases. They have far more than we do and react differently to each – so they learned a lot more about diseases than we have. I downloaded everything they have on the subject to find something that could help us."

"Have you learned something useful?" – he would've never thought of checking the humans' science – puny as it was compared to their own. But Skyfire was right in a way; they had far more experience with diseases than Cybertronians.

"There is a method that they used a long time ago; weakening the viruses by transplanting them from one animal to another in a number of times. I've been trying to adapt the method to our case."

"How?"

"I used drones instead of animals and grafted the rusted matter onto them – then repeated the process a number of times."

"Any effect?"

Skyfire looked indecisive. He thought that he achieved some effect, but he wasn't yet sure and didn't want to blurt it out prematurely. Nevertheless, he wanted to see what Star… Skyraider thought of it.

"I think I have. I'm not yet sure though… but if I'm correct, the nanites' programming has been corrupted slightly – not enough to change their behaviour, but maybe…"

'…maybe with more grafts, more steps, it can be corrupted in the necessary amount." – Skyraider finished the sentence, perking up visibly. It was the very first sign of a possibly useful idea that any of them had so far as the nanites strongly resisted any direct reprogramming that they tried. – "Can I help you in it?"

"I think so. We'd need a lot of drones and a series of interconnected isolation chambers built for them. The corruption is so slight that it would possibly take a great number of transplants to weaken the nanites enough and with these tools I have now, it would take too long."

"That's easy to get – we have absolute priority in anything we need." – Skyraider, as was his nature didn't waste a klik and he was already comming Prowl, who organized the research effort, locked into his room as he was even. But he was right – it took a single joor and they had everything that they needed right there in the lab. Shockwave's drones were everywhere around the planet and without their main controller that was destroyed in Darkmount, they were easy to collect and reprogram for any task. In a short while they were already working on the grafting in a production line almost, going through the drones as fast as the nanites could colonize them. With the increased tempo, Skyfire was glad to see that the corruption in the nanites' programming became clearly noticeable as well.

"Skyfire… you know what is the only flaw in this scheme?" – Skyraider spoke up suddenly after the hundredth drone when they took a little break to clear the isolation chambers.

"Is there one?"

"Yes. Even if it works… it is not a cure. It is… according to the info I have, humans call it inoculation. Protects uninfected mechs – but doesn't cure the already infected ones."

Skyfire froze for a breem while he went over his idea and the human theory of inoculation and conceded that Star…Skyraider was right and he hung his head in embarrassment. – 'Yes… I missed that point."

"It is still a very useful idea… if it works, we can all be protected from the contamination." – Skyraider lightly run a servo along the edge of Skyfire's wing, to console the shuttle. – "It is not like any of us had even this much of an idea, so don't be frustrated. You did great."

Skyfire was pleasantly surprised by the sympathetic words but even more so by the comforting touch from Skyraider; it was the first time that the Seeker willingly touched him since they met again. It wasn't of course anything sensual, but it still warmed his spark up a bit. Along with the compliment from the usually sarcastic Seeker who never gave those easily it worked wonders to his frame of mind and they were back in doing the experiment in no time. Until he froze again, a new idea striking that might help even more…

"Skyraider. What about injecting the weakened nanites into those who have the rust already? Wouldn't they take over and… and supplant the other strain?"

"Ratchet already tried to introduce specially programmed nanites into the infected mechs and they couldn't take over from the rust ones."

"Yeah, but we'd work with the rust nanites that are highly prolific by default. We'd only change their ability to eat away metal, not the aggressive way that they reproduce and take over the host body."

"It might work… but still you'd have to transfuse infected protoform matter and that is almost impossible, if I remember my studies well."

"Let's check with Ratchet about that part. It is necessary for the idea to work."

They quickly commed the medic who came to the lab once he heard their plan.

"I can't believe that you intend to use organic methods on mechs. Better not to tell them." - he snarked, obviously glad for the idea, but couldn't pass up an opportunity to tickle the Seeker a bit – verbally only of course.

"We'll deal with prejudiced mechs when the time comes. But we have a problem… can you transplant or transfuse living protoform material into another mech?"

"Generally, no. Only in special cases."

"What cases?"

"Relatives… and I mean close relatives. Protoform matter is coded with the frequency of the spark energy. You have to have that close enough to transplant. Since you are doing human medicine, I can tell you that it is similar for them too. If the transplant is not close enough to the receiver, the body rejects the implanted matter."

"So we'd have to find close relatives for this supposed cure to work."

"So you actually think that it can work?"

"Skyfire's theory is sound and the first part is already going well. If we can carry out the practical work, it should work. It takes time, but that can't be helped." – Skyraider had no problem to give the shuttle the acknowledgement for his idea; in fact he was glad to praise Skyfire at last. The shy shuttle deserved some fame and the Seeker knew how much his compliment meant to him.

"Well, in that case yes, you'd need a close relative for each infected mechs for the transfusion."

"I think that it is possible… even at this point of the war. I think."

"But first we have to finish the research, produce the corrupted nanites and work out if they can indeed supplant the original ones."

"Then… let's do it!"

* * *

><p><strong>Skyraider<strong>

At the end of their shift the twins came for Skyraider as usual, to the still stinging envy of Skyfire. They were anything but subtle about their touches and innuendos and Skyraider didn't mind it either, only herding his lovers out from the lab when he caught the stiffened way the shuttle held his wings, while methodically finishing up the orn's work.

"Skyfire, go on, you need your rest too. You know how the officers take it seriously that no mech works with the rust while tired. Too easy to make mistakes and we've made quite enough so far."

"I know. I just want to put these away." – Skyfire left the lab after the Seeker and the frontliners, who were already gone down the corridor.

At their shared quarters as usual, the twins forced him to refuel properly first before even asking him questions. But this time he could hardly keep the good news in himself and they noticed it too; they became noticeably better at reading his wing movements lately.

"What is it Raider? You look happier than ever since this upheaval started."

"We might have a solution for a cure. Skyfire discovered it and it is a strong possibility!"

"That's great! Tell to Stormbringer, he was quite depressed today."

Skyraider quickly commed to his wingmate to share the possible good news, not even caring to keep it private this time. He didn't hide from Stormbringer that the cure was not yet ready and wouldn't even be easy, but it still heartened the dejected Seeker, suffering from the disease, missing his love and being grounded for several orns by this time.

"_Storm, there is one thing that we might have to find. The cure will probably include protoform-matter transfusion from a close relative. I can do it for you – for once it pays off to be cousins, but we are not sure about Bumblebee. His spark is his own, but the protoform is Skywarp's; and we have no idea what will work for him."_

"_Warp didn't have any living relatives as far as I know. You know that he came from a lower caste. Bumblebee… the Autobots might know."_

"_I'll ask around. Don't worry, we will solve this."_

Turning back to the twins Skyraider froze. They both stared at him with identical, suspicious, suddenly cold and hard optics and he almost panicked – only a long and hard life's plenty of experience in hiding what he felt saved him from reacting outright. He glanced from one twin to the other, measuring their mood the way he used to judge Megatron's level of anger and the consequent punishment. Sideswipe looked more suspicious, but still angry enough, while Sunstreaker was almost seething and his whole stiff stance shouted betrayal.

"What…?"

"How can you know anything about Skywarp…?"

Slag. They were careless, slipped and the already suspicious frontliners picked it up immediately; and they didn't look like letting it go this time. Skyraider sighed hard and commed Stormbringer that he'd be back later, not wanting to worry him by his predicament; the Seeker was not sure how the twins would take the lie and deception that he must tell them now. He hoped that they would understand and maybe, maybe forgive him in time… but he also hoped to introduce it much later, by the time they would have a stronger relationship. Apparently no such luck. But then, when did luck grace his life anyway…

"Okay, so it is connected to the secret I told you to wait with earlier. I don't suppose you will let it go still…?"

_::Let him off the hook?::_ - Sideswipe was half willing to let him; the Seeker looked so happy for a little while with the promise of the cure and the topic was sure to sour it.

_::No. I want to hear it.:_ - Sunstreaker on the other hand felt betrayed for some reason with intuition and instincts warning him of unsavory knowledge and he wanted to get over the whole thing, make it come out to the open, make a decision about it and live with it. Or without if it came to that... _::I have a bad feeling…::_

"We want to hear what you have to say now."

Skyraider looked unhappy but resigned, sighing again and shrugging one of the wings in helplessness; moving out from their embrace he sat on a stool, strategically placing it nearer to the door. It didn't fool the twins either; their warrior instincts noticed the placement and they knew that whatever was coming, it would be hard if it made the Seeker so vary of them.

"Just promise me one thing. Hear me out fully."

"It is that bad…? All right, we will." – Sunstreaker only nodded to his twin's assurance, still looking angry and resentful.

Skyraider sighed again, collecting his thoughts and hiking his wings up. He was not going to be ashamed of it, only the part about lying to the twins. The rest was… necessary.

"Where to begin… you guessed right last time, we were Decepticons, Stormbringer and I. Different designation, different paint job… and yeah, probably different personalities. Megatron promised a lot to us, Seekers, Autobots committed a lot of atrocities against us before the war started… but after a while the roles turned and we realized that it was Megatron the tyrant and not the Prime. The trine was broken and we wanted to remake it too… it's a long story… So we wanted to defect, but being who we were, Megatron would have hunted us down if we did openly. So we had to… act a bit." – he paused a bit glancing again to the twins, watching how they reacted and when he heard the icy silence, he covered up the flinch as best as he could.

"Yes, yes, I know. I lied to you. We all did. We had to!"

"Just to us, or the whole command…?"

"What do you take us for? Of course Prime, Prowl and Jazz knew. It was actually Bumblebee's idea that he concocted when Megatron ordered TC to be captured and executed. We simply used the jailbreak to make my former self appear deactivated too. It worked beautifully… and don't think it was easy to lie, to hide our names and change literally overnight!"

Sideswipe noticed how the Seeker's wings shook with suppressed emotion. He felt a chaotic mixture of feelings in himself as well as in the twin bond; the pain of betrayal, anger to be deceived, love slowly shrinking in the fire of reawakening enmity, the everpresent lust for the sensual Seeker… _::What should we do now?::_

"Starscream…"

"I'm not Starscream any more…" – Skyraider looked at them straight, hard but honest; almost but not quite begging them with his optics to understand, to accept. – "…and it is not just a cosmetic change either. I left that designation behind and really tried to be different since that time. You of all mechs should know this."

Sunstreaker couldn't take the pressing emotions sitting down any more. Jumping to his pedes, he stalked from wall to wall in their shared quarters, a fist occasionally making a dent into one of them. Sideswipe couldn't help but notice how the Seeker flinched at the first hit – although Skyraider had nothing to be afraid of, as Starscream he would consider such an anger that Sunstreaker exuded as inimical, reminding him of Megatron's punishments. _::Sunstreaker… it doesn't help matters.::_

_::I don't care.::_ – he growled back through the bond, stalking around still but at least he stopped hitting the wall. He glowered sometimes to the dejected Seeker who stared back at him, with optics that flashed shame, defiance and resigned sadness alternately, wings fearfully pressed backwards, away from the possible danger, away from the remembered feel of the twins' grabbing servos…

_::I… do.::_ - Sideswipe admitted - _::I think I can forgive him.::_

_::You…? I can't. Not the lies. He might have changed but he lied to us.::_

_::For their safety… because it was necessary…::_

_::Didn't trust us.::_

_::Could he…? I mean, Sunny, really think of it. If he said his designation straight away – could you trust him back then? He wanted to earn it without prejudice.::_

_::I… I can't. Not yet.:: _- and with that Sunstreaker stormed out of the room, leaving the two of them there. Sideswipe was forcing himself not to run after him – his more volatile brother needed some space to blow off steam. Skyraider looked first after him and then to the still unmoving, indecisive red twin and stood up, wings sadly drooping behind. For once he didn't care about anyone seeing them express his mood.

"I understand…" – he rasped, emotions choking his vocalizer so much that his voice suddenly resembled to his old one. Dragging himself towards the door, he intended to disappear somewhere; preferably somewhere far away. Maybe he should seek out the Seeker brothers and find some solace with them… he wouldn't trouble Stormbringer with this, not yet. But before he could leave, he felt a touch on his arm and saw a flash of red on his side.

"You don't have to go. Sunny is angry but he'll blow it off. I… I think what you did was a brave thing to do. I don't blame you for that. Only… only for the lie."

Skyraider couldn't believe his audials. Looking up he glanced to the red twin's optics, seeking out the confirmation for his words there – and he found it.

"I'm more sorry for having had to lie to you than you'd think. I cursed the necessity quite a few times these last few orns."

"Why?"

"Because… I feel more towards you than that. Both of you." – Skyraider fell silent for a klik, contemplating how to express it but giving up, not finding an easy way… best is to be simple then. – "Slag, I think I came to love you two. Even if you… don't." – the end was quiet, so small that Sideswipe hardly heard it at all.

"Hey, it was us starting to court you!" – Sideswipe couldn't stay so serious, not for so long. He didn't want the Seeker to go, even if it meant that Sunstreaker would be angry with him too.

"Yeah… but that was when you thought me… someone else. I don't hold you to it now."

The door opened again and an irate Sunstreaker stood there, glowering to his twin.

"We must talk." – and everyone present understood that he didn't mean Skyraider whom he seemed to ignore completely.

"I think it's best if I go now." – he looked helplessly to the twins before leaving. – "Does it help if I say that I'm really, truly sorry?"

Skyraider wandered down the corridors without a goal, just away from the twins'… slag, it was their shared quarters, he realized. If he left them, he'd need a new room or at least a berth somewhere. But he couldn't make himself care; recharge was the farthest thing from his mind. He decided to go to the Seeker brothers, but luck was still avoiding him; from the end of the corridor, he saw Silverstorm with the youngster, Air Raid, disappearing behind their door. It was enough to put him off for a few kliks – when did that partnering happened? – but at the end he fell back to the depression. Lacking any place to go, he went out to fly for a while at least.

* * *

><p><strong>Silverstorm<strong>

Silverstorm got Skyfire's comm message about the possibility of the cure just as he enticed the Aerialbot, Air Raid for some leisure activities in their room; but at the news he turned back and went to Soundwave immediately. Informing the de facto Decepticon leader of the state of matters they got down to prepare for it. Finding close relatives at this point of the war would not be easy, they knew; fortunately Soundwave counted as one for all his cassettes, therefore Ravage, his eldest creation would be safe. The Decepticon forces had a dozen afflicted mechs, more than the Autobots, despite of the constantly enforced quarantine measures; they were in general more exposed to the deadly disease while escaping from Darkmount.

Silverstorm knew that they should have even more infected mechs, but some of the soldiers didn't bother with quarantining the ones they found; in true Decepticon fashion, they simply shot them and melted down the remains from afar. Not that he blamed them. With no cure so far, facing a deadly but highly contagious disease was more than most Decepticon soldiers could deal with; and their morals, or rather the lack of thereof, pointed them towards the easiest solutions. In fact he almost suggested that as a policy to Soundwave at first – before he remembered that Ravage was infected as well. After that he abandoned the idea quickly - he so didn't want to face an irate telepath.

Conferring with Prowl about the Autobots, they miraculously found relatives for most infected mechs. He was definitely surprised to hear that Prowl and Bluestreak were cousins; out of the only three known surviving Praxians it was even more of a miracle than the other related mechs. The only problematic case looked to be Bumblebee, whose protoform was that of the former Skywarp's who came from a different segment of Vosian society than the rest of the surviving Seekers and therefore he had no relatives whatsoever. Nobody really wanted to be the one informing his mate, Stormbringer about this fact – and Skyraider seemed to have gone for a flight, possibly to put off that very conversation.

* * *

><p><strong>Air Raid<strong>

After the suddenly postponed meeting with Silverstorm, Air Raid and Skydive were in the base common room, at a computer terminal, researching. It wasn't Air Raid's thing exactly and that's why he dragged his not quite unwilling brother into it; secret hunting was a lure that Skydive couldn't resist. They haven't found much though and the hunt was less exciting with every passing breem; the Autobots either had very little on the Decepticon Seekers or the information was restricted from them, while about Skyraider and Stormbringer they found nothing. So they were a bit at a loss as to where they could continue to acquire information – sort of asking Decepticons which neither of them felt comfortable about.

They were just about to give up and leave when a lone Seeker, Skyraider wandered into the room, visibly upset by something to the level that he didn't even notice the two jets around. He came in and threw himself down on one of the couches in the corner, sulking and ignoring the world around him. Not that the rec room had many mechs in it; beside the jets it was only one more Autobot, sitting apart from each, drinking his ration in silence. Air Raid looked at Skydive, the same thought already forming in both their processors as they stalked towards the preoccupied-looking Seeker and plopped down at his sides. Skyraider looked up with curiosity to the bold move of the two Aerialbots and hiked up his wings – no reason to betray his emotional state to the youngsters.

"Hi! We came to ask if you have any news in the lab." – Skydive thought himself very clever to start off with a neutral topic before trying to pester the Seeker for secrets. – "Any chance of beating the disease?"

"Actually, there is a chance." – Skyraider was sure that the two of them did not come for asking about the cure, but he was glad for it and intended to keep the conversation on this topic. – "Skyfire worked out a method that might work."

"That's great! You must miss your Trine by now." – it wasn't the most tactful things to say, Air Raid knew, but he couldn't think of anything else. Tact just wasn't his thing anyway.

"I do miss them… now more than ever." – came a resigned answer with a little sigh from the vents. The Aerials didn't miss it either and looking at each other they communicated through the gestalt bond that the Seeker looked sad for some reason, even though the news should make him happy.

"What is the matter? You don't look too happy to me. Is it the cure or something else?"

"Both… the cure needs close relatives for a transfusion of protoform-matter and Bumblebee doesn't have any; and I have personal problems as well." – he didn't elaborate on the latter.

"It is sad about Bumblebee…"

"Yeah, especially for Stormbringer."

"And for you too of course."

"Thank you for your concern." – the slightly dry voice of Skyraider signaled that he considered the youngsters' statements just a bit tactless again – of course he couldn't have expected them to be any different; the Aerialbots weren't cruel by any means of the word, but socially they were worse than Skyfire, who at least had some life-experience under his figurative belt.

"What about you then? Is there something wrong?"

He so wasn't telling his secret to these two – the warrior twins would not spread it probably, not yet anyway, but these jets couldn't hold a secret to save their lives. – "I can deal with it."

"Sure you can. But I learned that sharing problems sometimes make them get better. Hmm?" – Air Raid wasn't sure if it would work on the Seeker, but hey, it was worth a try.

"There are some things that mechs don't share."

"Ohh, secrets? You know, these days it seems every mech has a secret to mope about. Why is that?"

"Because functioning is not that easy after your youngling vorns passed…"

"Bahh, always this youngling-talk… I know we are younger than you but we can still understand things if you just care to explain." – Skydive, the most serious of the Aerials hated to be called youngling and even more so when it was deserved by his brothers' behaviour.

"Look, I don't spread my love life around and not just because you are youngsters."

"Ohh… so it is… well, sorry. We thought you have a different kind of secret…"

"I have many secrets, but right now… it is different." – Skyraider looked down, wings dropping again, out of his conscious control.

Air Raid suddenly remembered how the Seeker was hardly ever seen without the twins lately and noticed their conspicuous absence right now. Adding two facts together wasn't hard even for him and still in his typical, tactless way he blurted it out without thinking of consequences.

"So, the twins ditched you?"

_::Raid you idiot!:: _- Skydive hissed through the gestalt bond.

"Umm… I'm sorry. I didn't meant to… I mean…" – slag, he really botched it this time.

Skyraider, after the initial sharp pang of pain and the following flash of anger calmed his faceplates, his wings and his voice before answering.

"We have problems. That is all that you are entitled to know. Now, excuse me, I have to go."

He'd rather spend his orns fully in the lab than have any more such conversations. Might get less recharge but more peace of processor. Recharge is overrated anyway. Interface too. Frag. Who did he want to fool?

* * *

><p><strong>Skyraider<strong>

Burying himself into work seemed to be beneficial if not his constitution, but the work they had to do; in slightly more than two orns, they finished with their part of the proceedings and awaited only to the medic's confirmation that it really held up in his tests as well.

"You can comm now Command, the cure seem to work." – Skyfire, despite of his calm nature could hardly contain his joy at the work well done. – "Ratchet confirmed his part; it should work in live application as well."

"Nah, it was your idea, you deserve to be the one telling them." – Skyraider was happy, he truly was – if only for the matter of Bumblebee, in connection with him Stormbringer and lastly but not the least the twins who seemed to be avoiding him since their spat. But that was beside the point and he pushed those feelings away as much as he could.

"_Commander, we have finished with the cure – all lab tests are positive and Ratchet confirms it too."_

"_Excellent, Skyfire that is great news. I suppose you will apply the cure for the infected mechs now?"- _Ultra Magnus was glad that the cure was found finally, even more so that a really Autobot scientist managed it and not the cocky Seeker whom he didn't particularly liked even to begin with, and his sassing just made him even more unsympathetic in the strict Autobot Commander's optics.

"_Yes, Sir, we'll do it at once."_

It still wasn't easy to apply the cure while keeping the infected mechs quarantined just in case of some unforeseen problems. But the transfusions and inoculations worked, the formerly quarantine rooms were cleaned out from the nanites, and the same process repeated in the Decepticons' base in Kaon; in a single orn they had only one mech remaining infected and in stasis: Bumblebee. Together now with Stormbringer, servos fondling each others' wings, they sat in front of the stasis pod, watching silently the yellow Seeker's faintly visible profile through the plastiglass, supporting and comforting each other through the Trine bond. The rest of the base was becoming livelier again, with mechs daring to leave their quarters for more than just breems of consuming their energon, socializing again; even the peace talks were scheduled to be resumed soon.

"_Skyraider, please come to the Command Center, Ultra Magnus has an announcement o make."_ – Prowl commed the Seeker, respecting their pain of missing their third Trine-mate, but having to call Skyraider to the meeting. Ultra Magnus was adamant on all the scientists being there for his announcement.

"_I'll be there."_

-o-o-

All the scientists were there, the Autobot Command, Soundwave and the Con Seekers representing the other faction – but not the Prime, to whom everyone begged not to come yet, as long as there was the slightest chance of the cosmic rust infection to break out again. Skyraider wondered for a klik as to what the mech wanted, but couldn't really care still; his trine-mate's fate was in the forefront of his mind, closely followed by the twins – Sideswipe sent him a few comm messages to assure him of his feelings, but told him that he wanted Sunstreaker to come about too. He couldn't do anything but accept that slight assurance, wait frustrated – and fret nervously. He hardly looked up when Ultra Magnus started to speak and the assembled mechs quietened.

"Autobots and Decepticons present – I'd like to sincerely commend the science team, especially Skyfire and Ratchet to work out the cure for the cosmic rust that threatened us with near extinction." – even the scientists themselves were muttering a bit at the omission; for them it was common knowledge that although it was Skyfire's idea, he still worked it out together with Skyraider. But a stern glance from the Autobot Commander silenced them and the Seeker frankly couldn't care. – "I'll be sure to inform everyone about it."

"Now, I want you all to work on the other strain of cosmic rust; I understand that the present cure is not a solution for that, meaning that the planet is still in danger."

"Surely Sir, you mean that after we can modify the cure for the one mech still infected." – Skyraider couldn't stop himself from interrupting and didn't even try. He felt tense and angry at the way the Autobot Commander looked at him after the interruption. He never seemed to like the Seeker but right now… he looked frowning and visibly disdaining at him.

"No, I meant what I said, Skyraider. Bumblebee, I'm informed is in a stable condition and therefore not a priority." – the callous statement was received by a ringing silence while most mechs looked at each other.

Skyraider fought with his rising anger. It wouldn't do to make a scene that would rather strengthen the fragger's position. He had to be calm now and argue that way… only he couldn't, as the last few orns' frustration and troubles did their work and he couldn't regain his calm. So it was another Seeker, Silverstorm, who spoke up instead.

"Commander, I must urge you to change this decision. While it is true that Bumblebee is stable, but as long as the disease is still around, we are all in danger still." – Silverstorm understood Skyraider's outrage completely.

"If the planet is destroyed, it won't matter who is in a theoretical danger. My order stands."

"I don't care. I will work on what I have to." – Skyraider had enough.

"Soldier, you will obey your orders. I've seen that you have problems with that, but I won't stand for disobedient subordinates!"

"Orders." – now he achieved the frozen calm that he was striving for. It was the ultimate rage – so out of bounds that it turned into its exact opposite. – "You order me to leave my Trine-mate to an uncertain fate."

"He is only one mech. We have more important problems than him." – Ultra Magnus was not the kind to just swallow a subordinate's backtalk and questioning of his orders; nor did he particularly liked the Seeker for that very reason. He was the Commander of the Autobot forces and if the mech wanted to challenge his authority then he was more than capable of disciplining him.

"He is my wingmate. My other wingmate's partner. If he perishes, the whole Trine will go."

"That's preposterous. Exaggerating and emotional outbursts won't make me change my mind."

"But you disregarded my logical arguments as well, Commander." – Silverstorm felt it was necessary to note, while he commed to Skyraider.

"_Why does he hate Seekers?"_

"_You should know better. I never met a fragger before, while you fought against him in battles."_

"_So he hates us because we were on the other side?"_

"_Probably. Seekers were his main enemies here, in the Cybertron battles."_

"_Try Soundwave, maybe he can teach some common sense to Magnus."_

"_I've already tried to get him involved, but… he doesn't care much about Bumblebee."_

"Orders: logical. Planet survival: more important than individuals." – Soundwave neither cared for the Autobot Seeker, nor did he want to jeopardize the peace talks over the disagreement.

"_So he agrees with Ultra Magnus?"_

"_Apparently."_

"_Frag. Listen. Will you follow me if I do something unexpected?"_

"_Like what?"_

"_Like shocking them a bit… and showing them that we, Seekers do have a mind of our own."_

"_Okay… I will." _

While the two Seekers talked in their private comm-line, quickly involving the rest of the fliers, the rest of the command thought that they have given up arguing and started to give orders for the scientists and the Seekers who looked, if anything preoccupied. The reason for it didn't remain a secret for long though, as after a few tense breems Skyraider spoke up again, suddenly, gravely, with great emphasis put into each single word.

"Commander Ultra Magnus, Commander Soundwave. We, the Seekers decided that if we are not _important enough_ for either factions, then it is time for us to leave. This attitude reminds us to the pre-war behaviour of groundbound mechs that we fought against and will never stand for. As of now, we cease to be Autobots or Decepticons and became what we have always been: the unaffiliated Seekers of Vos. I speak for the Autobot affiliated Seekers and any flier who wish to join." – while Ultra Magnus listened with jaw dropped, the fliers moved together and Silverstorm announced his support too.

"I declare the same as the representative of the Decepticon-affiliated Seekers, the Triple-changers and any flier who may wish to join us still."

"We will leave our respective bases immediately. We will remain Neutral and not attack any of the factions unless provoked. We will remain in talks with the Prime and anyone who is capable of respecting us. So far that definitely precludes Ultra Magnus." – he couldn't stop himself from that small jab towards the fragger Autobot.

While the assorted commanders and lieutenants of the two factions tried to make some order in the suddenly chaotic command center, Skyfire calmly stood up and approached the Seekers' group.

"I'd like to go with you, if you'd have me. You are right, and being neutral appeals me anyway."

"Glad to have you, Fire." – Skyraider even found a little smile for his colleague; with him, they even had a chance to work out a cure for Bumblebee.

"I don't want to join, nor am I a Seeker; but I'm a medic, not a scientist. I think I could do better to help a mech than a planet." – nobody expected Ratchet to speak up, but he did. His ethic were already in a turmoil about Ultra Magnus's orders; while he understood that sometimes it was necessary to sacrifice someone for a greater good, but he didn't think it was the case now. Their race was so dwindled in numbers that they was actually on the verge of extinction – and it was even more true to the Seekers, especially as he knew that Skyraider spoke the truth: Bumblebee's deactivation could mean the loss of the whole Trine – Stormbringer's for sure and their combined loss would drag the trine-leader down too.

"_See if you can convince the Aerials too. It would be a perfect lesson to leave them without any fliers."_

"_Air Raid is coming and he might be able to convince the whole gestalt. They want to be Seekers and don't like Magnus's style either."_

"_Good. Let's go then."_

"**Seekers! Take wing and up to Vos!" **– in that klik Skyraider was suddenly the best of his former self. Starscream, the proud Air Commander, the former prince of Vos gave the order and all the Seekers followed him without hesitation. Most of the other fliers too; all the former Decepticons, the Autobot shuttle carrying a stasis pod and a grumbling medic; and in a little while the still arguing Aerialbots too; even the pouting, snarling Slingshot, purely because all the others went and he didn't want to be left behind.

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: as for the cure, I hope it is not too ridiculous; I tried to be as realistic as I could while combining organic medicine with Cybertronian ideas.


	21. Memories

**Note**: from Chapter 10 onwards Skyraider = ex!Starscream; Stormbringer = ex!Thundercracker and Bumblebee = ex!Skywarp albeit a little differently.

"normal speech"

"_comm"_

_'own thoughts'  
><em>

_::bond/gestalt link::_

* * *

><p><strong>21. Memories<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Silverstorm<strong>

Vos, as they saw when their little flock of assorted fliers flew over the former city-area, of course presented the same ruined, blasted, acid-etched wasteland façade than the rest of the planet. A bit worse in fact, for their imagination, their memory banks projected to them the hazy outlines of the formerly proud buildings and objects onto whatever piece of broken rubble they thought they could identify. The city center was indubitably the worst both in sight and remembrance; absolutely nothing remained from the high spires and proud towers that were the spark of Vos, high above the ground that was now covered with their broken and blasted pieces in a thick, unidentifiable layer of rubble that both looked and smelled of destruction and death.

None of them wanted or even dared to land on that – the metallic wasteland was, as they all knew half buildings and half the slowly – but at least naturally - rusting husks and torn limbs of their former families, colleagues, brothers and hundreds of thousands of nameless Seekers who perished in that fateful day that left its indelible mark on the processors of the survivors. They flew silently over the unmarked tomb and memorial of most of the Seeker race, agreeing without words to pass the area and seek out a suitable place nearby, where a new city could be founded. There wasn't any particular reason why Skyraider landed on a small ridge that looked over the Vosian plains but it was as good as any; and the Seekers still followed his lead automatically, recognizing the leadership qualities in him, if not the particular personality that was still a secret to most.

The best they could do on a short notice was to clean out and repair a pair of small domes that must have been a scientific station and had just a little damage to their upper shells to live in for a while. Silverstorm flew back to the Autobots the next orn, bargaining with the most agreeable of the Autobots, Prowl for energon and various necessities in exchange for continuing the work of trying to slow down the spread of the rust nanites from the former Darkmount area – both factions were now left without fliers and the incendiary bombing of the rust infected area was a common necessity to them all. The rest of them collected what they could from the city – the outer circles surprisingly had some useful materials even after the pillage of the war by all sides and the Empties. Collecting and reprogramming a few hundred of Shockwave's everpresent and aimless drones gave them the obedient and uncomplaining workforce to clear the area and build what they needed.

In a few orns they built suitable lodgings for all the Trines and the gestalt, a lab for the scientists, a rudimentary med-bay for Ratchet and one of the original domes was reassigned as common room for refueling – and as often happened for arguing. They all loved disagreeing and this latter function of the dome was employed often enough in any subject that came up – and a lot of them came up in those problematic first groons. There was one thing that they rarely if ever argued about interestingly; that of their former factions and the war itself. They were fliers and it was far more characteristic of them than any insignias that they all agreed to shed and take up the former crest of Vos; the winged flame went far better with any of them than the grounders' silly faces – be them Primus's or whatever.

The bigger dome, they kept and intended for official meetings and command center. So far it was Skyraider and Silverstorm leading them as the instigators of the breakaway but they all agreed to return to proper Seeker traditions as soon as the situation normalized and their standing was recognized by the Autobots and Decepticons alike as an element of the future Cybertronian government. Silverstorm was their best negotiator, so he was named ambassador for the time being, while Skyraider acted as the temporary leader of their small group while working as scientist in their small research lab to find a cure for Bumblebee, along with Skyfire and Ratchet – burying himself into work so he had no time to think of two certain mechs staying behind in the Autobot base. None of the Seekers questioned his commitment in that research, as they knew how much the incomplete Trine pained both him and Stormbringer; but all fliers acknowledged his leadership for the time being, simply as the most capable one for it. His sparkache remained his secret from most.

One of the more interesting developments were the gestalt fliers' slow drawing away from each other; since it was not necessary for them to combine into Superion any more, the Aerialbot brothers started to go on their own ways. Their natures have always been far too diverse and contradictory despite of sharing a brotherly bond, and the disappearance of the necessity of staying together weakened their will to coexist all the time. Air Raid started that process by formally moving in with Silverstorm and his brother, until it was rumored that they would soon bond as Trine and maybe as partners as well; his brothers went from outraged unbelief through slow acceptance as one orn they noticed Skydive too being courted by the surviving members from one of the broken Trines, Meteor and Comet_._ The multiple commitments and various bonds did not bother the Seekers at all; they were all used to this for long, since their society has always worked in complex ways with all the families and trines interconnecting almost every Seeker.

Silverstorm was more than happy for this development, since despite of his easygoing nature he could never get used to the whole gestalt together; Slingshot's nasty, errant temper and Fireflight's mindless haphazardness was not something he could or wanted to easily deal with. Besides he and his brother both longed for a third who could complete their Trine for so long and Air Raid, after some training and slight maturity that he caught from the elder Seekers, seemed to fit in with them nicely. It was too soon to talk about Trine bonding, but he was hopeful, Whipping Star was accepting in his vague way and Air Raid so far was apparently not against the idea either. Of course he would never intentionally separate the younger mech from his brothers, but it was part of the natural growing process for Seekers; to weaken the familial bonds and move on to one's adult Trine. A gestalt after all was not so much different from a family unit.

He didn't like leaving Whipping Star behind so much, but it was inevitable; as much as his brother was insecure and confused without him around and clarifying things through their bond he was needed in the negotiations and couldn't go take him on these travels just to feel more secure. He confided a bit in Ratchet about his brother's condition, so if anything happened he'd know what to do. But he didn't expect it to happen; Star's many-layered reality has never before caused a dangerous situation, only on some occasions an uncomfortable and queer one.

* * *

><p><strong>Whipping Star<strong>

Silverstorm was away again. These orns he spent more and more time in the Autobot base or with the flier that Whipping Star still hasn't managed to learn the exact designation for. He always had troubles when his brother was afar, their bond weak or closed by distance and he couldn't decide where he was or what was really happening around him. The mechs' shapes kept encroaching on him, the almost but not quite understood voices unsettled him. Reality kept wavering as the could-bes and might-have-beens mixed into what was theoretically his world. The base one. The original one in which he was created. Or so he thought. Sometimes…. sometimes he was not so sure which one that was. Or how many different Whipping Stars converged in him and from where.

He stared vacantly at the younger flier sitting on the other berth, his shape and colours changing every breem or so as he shifted through the layers of reality that made up his world. He tried to settle them, to find the one where he was supposed to stay, but it wasn't easy without his brother to anchor him. He shouldn't disturb the other now, during the negotiations with the newly arrived Prime, he knew that much. He heard the flier asking something but the many voices that spoke up with him precluded his understanding of it. It was always so… and it was why he liked to be around the few mechs who remained constant across his wavering realities – they, he could understand. It was the interchangeable ones that had many faces and voices and blurred into an incomprehensible mess.

Although he had to admit that the younger one had less of those lately, which in his experience meant that many of the unsuitable, incompatible ones were already leaving them, culled out, deactivated or somesuch in the parallel dimensions. He might one orn grew to be one of those whom the Seeker could really _see_ and _hear_. If only he could remember his designation. Many of the flier's shapes fidgeted uneasily, where they sat on the other berth of their newly made quarters in New Vos. Most mechs were acutely uneasy in his presence, seeing his unfocused garnet stare and listening to his heavy silence. He rarely spoke, mainly because most of the time he didn't know whom he was talking to or what it would cause. Only very rarely his worlds came into a sharper focus so he could be sure of the wheres, whens and whos; and then he could add what he distilled from his many realities – things that he learned were sometimes received as prophetic.

How could they not be… he was more aware of his surroundings than of the other mechs, because things didn't change that much as living beings; they were sometimes strange in shapes and colours and sometimes even downright different, but it was still less disturbing and confusing than the blurred mechs that acted the same across the various realities but spoke with different voices and had different faces and designations. Silverstorm sometimes theorized that it was so because of something called statistical probability, but what that was way beyond him; he could never learn much, not while he was a youngling still and not since; not when he could hardly see or hear reality clearly and certainly couldn't understand the supposed teacher-shape in front of him or the blurred glyphs on datapads that he was given.

His brother never complained that he was almost completely dependent on him for the simplest facts of functioning. If not for their bond, which was far stronger than a simple brother's bond, he could have never made it to adulthood, much less managing to get by in the Decepticon army. He knew for a fact that many councilors and medics suggested to their creators to deactivate the 'poor mechling' who couldn't even remember a name other than his brother's and kept walking or flying into walls – how could they have known that in other realities the walls weren't there and very few mechs' names stayed the same? He couldn't understand that back then, only perceived that what for others was a solid reality, for him was neither solid nor even real. He knew for a fact that in many realities he was deactivated 'out of compassion' and those worlds hurt him more than they should be – after all he belonged there too.

He often wondered why their creators belonged to that hazy, interchangeable group that he couldn't bother to clarify designations for. After all, they should have been clearer, more solid, more characteristic – they were after all their creators, important mechs in his life. But he couldn't even find the supposed familial bond with them and Silver admitted once, long ago that he knew mechs usually had far stronger creator-bonds than him too. It was like they weren't their creators at all; for him they appeared almost as indistinct and hazy as real strangers, despite of Silver telling that he had memories of their younglinghood in his memory banks.

He had some of those memories too but they were the strangest of his experiences; unlike his later memories, the wavering, hazy, confusing worlds overlapping each other, these supposedly younglinghood memories were all clear, distinct and understandable… and felt like they didn't belong to him at all. They depicted a sparkling that looked like him – but who wasn't him at all. That sparkling existed in one world only. He sometimes envied him for that, but he never made the mistake of identifying with him. They couldn't have been his memories really, he knew that much… but since nobody was interested in it, he never told.

The one called Starscream came in while he was musing – he was a relaxingly constant, fairly solid entity in almost all his realities, so Whipping Star felt comfortable around him, even though his designation lately muddled up with something like Skyraider. He mostly understood the mech too – like now when he wanted them to help out in the lab, carrying some equipment from the stores they set up. In their small community every mech did the work that needed to be done; they couldn't afford anyone sitting idly for orns on end, even someone as useless as he was without Silverstorm. Anyway, he was fairly confident in what he understood from the other Seeker's explanation; the Starscreams that he knew acted expectably in all continuities, no matter his (their?) actual designation or colours.

The big white shuttle (Skyfire? Jetfire?) and the medic called strangely Hatchet who were in the lab were fairly distinct too, for which he was thankful; and their presence together brought the situation into that strange, clear focus that usually signified important focal points across the realities. He pondered a bit about it, sweeping his garnet gaze around in the mostly still hazy lab, seeking out the clear points and instinctly arrange them into a meaningful order he only could ever see; the two mechs, a syringe, the stasis pod with the double-fused-together grounder-seeker-entity in it and the immaterial connection between it and himself - they were coming together into a strange constellation. It was only these times that he was compelled to speak up because these were constants and mechs usually took these announcements well.

"The solution you look for is in me."

Three sets of optics swiveled onto him, the attention that these rare moments of clarity brought was uncomfortable, like always. The one called Skyraider-Starscream spoke up first, as always asking him to clarify his meaning. It was always the same… the strange, clear focus while the realities came together and overlapped perfectly usually lasted only for a few kliks and then the diverging possibilities always muddled it up fairly quickly. But one thing remained constant this time, unusual as it was; a connection between himself and the double-mech in the pod. He tried to express it, optics riveted to the pod and the indistinct shape in it.

"We are connected."

"Who?"

"That Seeker and me."

"How…?"

He had no answer for that. No other answer presented itself as the world slowly sank back into its usual murky, overlapped, incomprehensible haze, telling him that there were no clear answers any more.

"Memories…?" – but it was more of a guess than an answer. He couldn't say any more, he couldn't know where he'd speak up and what he would cause with it. Mixing up the realities was a painful affair, one that he learned to avoid. Moving on the pre-set course he continued to pack the crates onto the shelves he was pointed to, disregarding once again the indubitably curious and confused mechs around him. He had his own confusion to deal with.

* * *

><p><strong>Skyraider<strong>

They all stared at the black and bronze Seeker, three sets of processors trying to make sense of the cryptic sentences. Skyraider was sure that the prophetic Seeker's words were important; he has seen it happening before and knew that he never before gave false information and it always paid off to listen to him. But it was never easy to make sense of him…

"Connected…" – he murmured quietly to himself – "How could they be connected by memories? Ratchet, is there any way to scan for… I don't now, similarities or something that can indicate any connection or common history between them?"

"Not that easy to scan Bumblebee through the stasis pod and he can't be removed from it."

"But you should have extensive records of him, right? Scan Whipping Star for… for everything I guess."

"Worth a try…" – Ratchet didn't like the method, as it wasn't his preferred modus operandi to scan blindly and hope for some kind of a result. But he meant to scan all the Seekers anyway, so he didn't object much; instead he started to run the not complaining Whipping Star, docile and silent again through every scan he would schedule in a thorough examination. The Seeker stood the examination far more calmly than his kind usually took it and until the end he found nothing that he could name as unusual. Inputting the scanners into a medical computer that he made sure to bring with him he set it to compare the results with Bumblebee's records.

"It will take a few breems to get results."

"If there is a connection… can they be related?" – Skyfire asked tentatively – "I mean if they are, then we don't have to invent a new cure for Bumblebee."

"I have no idea. Even a breem ago I would've said that no, they are most definitely not related. I still can't see how, if it is the case." – Skyraider looked at Whipping Star, but the silent Seeker remained silent – apparently he had nothing else to add. – "I guess Silverstorm would know if that was the case, but he said nothing."

"Maybe they don't know about it?"

"He did say memories."

Ratchet sat in front of the screen, looking over the data as the med computer presented it.

"There…" – he highlighted one section for all to see, even as it said very little to the other two. – "That's the frequency of the energy-residue that the warp gate emits when it's in use."

"The warp-gate?"

"Whipping Star doesn't have a warp gate… does he?" – they looked at him again, but as before, he gave no sign of returning their interest. It was quite hard, or rather quite impossible to interact with a mech who apparently hardly ever noticed his surroundings.

"But he emits the same kind of energy than Bumblebee does when he teleports."

"I take it that this frequency is rather unusual?"

"Exactly. It **is** connected to warp-gates and only to those."

"But it is far too little connection to risk taking him out of stasis and try the cure to see if it works."

"Unfortunately… but we should wait for Silverstorm, maybe he can provide an explanation to this."

* * *

><p><strong>Sideswipe<strong>

The twins sat in the base common room, their grim faces, stiff stances and angrily roiling fields making every mech avoiding them. It wasn't unusual to see Sunstreaker scowling so angry and forbidding, but it made more than a few mechs take notice that Sideswipe wore a similarly stormy expression; that one was certainly unusual from the generally more easygoing twin. They sat there glowering at each other like someone ordered them to face with their issues and make up – that it was actually the case helped no mech to dare to go nearer. The twins often argued, often fought as consequence of those arguments, but it looked to be the first time that they seriously disagreed and held onto their differences for a fairly long time.

"Fine!" – Sideswipe exploded after a joor of tense silence. – "I'll go after them and you can stuff your pride up your tailpipe and twist it!"

"Slag you glitch! We can't just up and go after them!" – Sunstreaker yelled back at him, azure optics glaring with a barely repressed rage servos tightening into fists. But Sideswipe didn't care about his anger this time, not any more.

"Why not? Because you don't want to?"

"HE LIED TO US!" – the volume of the argument surpassed the quietly watching Prowl's tolerance; for the tenth time as the annoyed tactician noted as he warned Sunstreaker to be quieter in the common room. Again. He had quite enough of the twins, especially the golden one this time; after their often violent arguments in the last few orns everyone on the base knew what happened, even though the secret did not get out. Besides they were both saying the same thing the thousandth time and getting nowhere with it. He understood them, sort of, he really did. Love caused strange things in mechs' processors and those two had it bad, even though Sunstreaker still denied it to himself.

"How many times do you want to repeat that?"

"As many as it takes you to hear it you stupid box of bolts!"

"I heard it all right the first time and told you that I can understand why. That is what YOU can't seem to hear." – Sideswipe looked at his twin sadly but very seriously – "I swear I'll really leave you this time, Sunstreaker."

"You can't."

"I most certainly can."

"Fine. Go then." – Sunstreaker scowled deeply, angrily before turning his back to his twin and closing the bond firmly. He couldn't admit that by this time he was missing the Seeker and… slag, no, he was so not thinking of _that_. – "See if I care."

Sideswipe stood up quietly, hurt by the closed bond, by Sunstreaker's stubbornness and by the fact that he too was missing Skyraider and not afraid to admit it to himself. He spent the last few orns with trying to convince his twin that they should forgive the Seeker and go after him, but with no result; Sunstreaker decided to be affronted and wasn't willing to give it up. Sideswipe was tired of the arguments and the anger emanating almost visibly from his twin with every word. He was leaving. He never did this before, never left Sunstreaker alone, never left an unresolved issue behind him – but now he felt that he had to, because he tried everything and it was still festering between them.

"Sideswipe." – Prowl's calm voice intruded on his turbulent thoughts just as he left the room – "Don't do something that you will regret later."

"Sunny is an afthole." – he said it resigned, tired of all this emotional slag he was unused to.

"He is afraid. Surely you, as his twin can see that."

"Afraid? Sunstreaker? You are fortunate he didn't hear that." – Sideswipe stared unbeliving at the tactician, not sure what was wrong with the mech. Prowl usually didn't drink high-grade or talked trash. Besides when did the mech become an expert on feelings? – "Why would he be afraid?"

"He is obviously afraid of his emotions, what he feels towards Skyraider. He isn't as comfortable with them as you seem to be."

"He is **angry** at Skyraider. Feels betrayed. Lied to."

"Exactly. Why else would he be angry if not because he cares?"

Sideswipe was speechless. It all made sense suddenly and it was of all mechs Prowl clearing it up for him. It was… kinda embarrassing to realize that the supposedly unemotional tactician understood the reason for his twin's current mood better than he himself. Prowl was silently leaving him to his thoughts as he stood just outside the door, debating whether to go back and try to convince Sunstreaker or let him steam for some more. At the end he turned back and without any more arguments, dragged the still protesting, but by this time somewhat remorseful Sunstreaker into their room. They had to come to an agreement. HAD TO.

* * *

><p><strong>Silverstorm<strong>

Silverstorm was secretly amazed how much of a stickler – he was avoiding the description 'afthole' out of politeness - this Autobot, Ultra Magnus could still be; even after alienating all the fliers, including their own, even after a heavy dressing down from his own Prime and the consequent disapproval of many Autobots, he still managed to convey a disdain towards him whenever they met and obstructed him at every turn. Fortunately it wasn't often; since the Prime arrived to Cybertron, leaving just a token staff on Earth he ordered that the negotiations were to be conducted without him and it left Silverstorm with the far easier task of coming to agreement with either him or Prowl. Soundwave as always was easy to deal with; the mech was still not comfortable as a leader and was perfectly comfortable with letting the Prime make most of the decisions, while he did most of the supporting work with Prowl.

It was of course far easier to negotiate with mechs who not only didn't want to create a rift, but in fact wanted to make up for wrongs and create a Cybertron that could be livable for all of them in a long term. As far as they recognized the Seekers as a separate political entity and didn't want to assert a grounder rule over their kind – a fact that has always been a sore point even in their so-called Golden Era – he was more than willing to cooperate with them. Silverstorm personally trusted Optimus Prime to be fair and just, but he was astute enough to know that whatever agreement they would come to would have to stand the test of time too; Primes weren't all the same quality and Seekers have seen some far worse than the present one. Therefore he sought assurances and most importantly time before they could start to talk again of a truly unified Cybertron.

He suggested the idea of confederate states for a while instead of melting them all together into an uneasy government straight away; arguing that a slower process of willing cooperation instead of a forced coexistence would be better in a long term. While most Autobots and even Soundwave agreed – the idea of semi-independent city-states was after all a Cybertronian concept far longer than the Senate ruling the whole planet -, but the Prime was worried that separation would have the opposite effect; isolation instead of cooperation. To this he countered arguing that being so few in numbers and lacking many materials they were codependent on each other for rebuilding the planet anyway, not allowing any of their groups to become truly isolated. Especially if they wanted to move Cybertron into an orbit around a suitable sun, for which they would need all the scientists, who now mostly resided in New Vos.

No matter how much he loved negotiations with their inherent scheming and plotting in which he excelled, even Silverstorm grew tired after a while of incessant talking that most Autobots were prone to. Wanting some reprieve, he at first visited the labs, wishing to confer with the scientists and after he had done that, he sought out a certain pair of mechs in their room. He was not one to carelessly meddle in others' personal affairs, but he wanted to know whether the twins really felt something towards Skyraider and only needed some nudging to decide… or it was hopeless and he should have to return with an unwanted answer.

"Silverstorm…?" – Sideswipe identified the Seeker shape at the door, feeling a small pang of pain that it didn't sport the colours he wanted to see. Sunstreaker, deeper in the room didn't look up from… whatever he was doing, but anger still rolled from him in waves.

"I came to ask you something." – he watched them both, more interested in reactions than verbal answers; in his experience body language spoke truer than often lying words. – "You are of course not required to answer as this is highly personal, but… do you intend to pursue a future relationship with Skyraider and if do, plan it any time soon?"

Silverstorm worded and presented the query in a specific tone intentionally so that they could interpret it as enquiring for himself, thereby awakening their jealousy – if there were any present. He wasn't disappointed in the reaction. Sideswipe, in front of him twitched visibly while seemingly searched for words to answer and his brother in the background has jumped to his feet and seemed almost murderous. Sunstreaker stalked beside his twin, barely holding back from a physical answer to the Seeker.

"Why… why do you want to know?" – he demanded, obviously reacting to both the question and his brother's angst. Balling his servos and widening his stance, the frontliner looked every bit as ready for battle as Silverstorm ever seen him – in real battles, riled up and wanting to murder someone. But he wasn't afraid.

"Because I care." – he answered seriously, for once discarding all manipulation. – "Skyraider is sparkbroken and I had to see why you are idling here if you do. Do you want to hurt him?"

"What? No!" – Sideswipe found his voice at the insinuation and Silverstorm could see his accusing glower at his brother, could almost hear his voice in their bond with which he berated Sunstreaker, who suddenly seemed to have lost his anger and looked hesitant, uneasy and almost sheepish.

"In that case you'd better decide soonest what you want and tell him. Personally… he deserves that much even if you stay angry at him. Even if you say no to him."

"I don't want to say no." – Sideswipe still stared hard at his twin but broke his attention from their bond long enough to answer the Seeker, even though he had no idea why he opened up to the largely unknown mech. – "But I can't leave Sunny either."

Silverstorm turned towards the golden twin, pinning him with a garnet gaze that – he hoped – drilled into the spark of the frontliner. This one had serious problems with admitting feelings but plenty of stubbornness to make up for the lack of decision.

"Fine!" – he exploded under the two stares – "I don't want to say no to him either! I just can't forgive that easily!"

"So it is payback?"

"No!"

"Then what? If I have a problem with a mech, I talk to him about it not avoid him."

"What is there to talk about? He lied to us, betrayed our trust and played with us!"

"THAT is there to talk about. Why he did it. What made him to do it. Whether he regrets it. I know some of it – if you want to hear. Do you?"

Yes… perhaps it was easier to hear from a relative stranger with no emotional involvement. The twins nodded, motioning the Seeker into the room, suddenly prepared to listen, even Sunstreaker. In the next few joors they learned a lot that few mechs knew about the former Decepticon SC, but what a trained eye of a Seeker could see very well.

* * *

><p><strong>Stormbringer<strong>

Stormbringer sat down quietly in the small room, just off the new medbay, where the stasis pod got settled. He had never been a loud, outgoing mech but these last few, hectic orns he almost forgot to speak out loud, even to Skyraider; the disappointment after the news of the cure was too great for him to even dare to hope again. It almost hurt to be rid his frame of the rust stains and know that his love was going to stay under, in stasis, halfway to deactivation… probably forever. The blue Seeker was no scientist but even he knew that it was not even a small miracle to discover one cure for the cosmic rust and that to find another any time soon was bordering on the impossible. He valued greatly Skyraider's firm stance on Bumblebee's side though – after such a long time he was acting as Trine leader once again, like way back when they met. Too bad, he thought, that it was probably too late for them.

He dared not hope again. He dared not even think of Bumblebee by his side at all. He knew that he could not stand another letdown, another breaking of his hopes. He lost his lover one too many times – strange as it sounded, but Primus saw it fit to take away Skywarp, give him back in the form of Bumblebee, then tear them apart again and again… it was just too much to bear. He felt slipping back into melancholy first, then depression again, making it harder and harder to get up after recharge, walk out of his room and help to their small group to rebuild their future – the future he was sure was not for him. He couldn't gather the slightest interest for this future, be it in New Vos or wherever. Not alone, not without his love.

Once again, it was automatic action that got him through every orn. He fuelled because Skyraider pressed the cubes into his servos, he worked and flew because Skyraider told him to go and do it and he spent all his free time in that small room, no matter that they told him that it was unhealthy. That he was obsessed. That he was a pessimist. None of that mattered. He kept the crystal he gave to Bumblebee in his subspace, pulling it out whenever he could, to aimlessly turn it in his servo, watching as the light played on its facets, the golden rays that it threw around – it effectively halted the otherwise tumbling thoughts, giving him a little reprieve. He'd always thought too much… and now he was glad when the thoughts didn't come and he could sit in quiet inside and out.

He felt Skyraider come in and sit by him, a hesitant servo touching his wing, asking permission and wished that he would not tell him to have hope any more times. He didn't want to hear the consistent updates on their work and the confident vows that they would find the cure no matter how long it took. He did it every time they met and it was fast becoming more painful than not knowing anything about their research. Stormbringer was surprised then when Skyraider didn't speak up, only sat by him and caressed his wings in a vaguely affectionate but aimless way. It wasn't like him… but of course lately he had his own sparkache that he hid from everyone else. Right. Misery loves company.

"You've fallen for them, hard." – it wasn't a question really, not when he could see it even above his preoccupation with Bumblebee's situation. He felt vaguely guilty of not being able to help more with his Trine leader's problem, supporting him as a second should. – "And they left you."

"Yes…" – Skyraider knew him enough to perceive that little guilt in his field and absolved him of it wordlessly. – "I don't hope that they come after us… not any more. They couldn't forgive the deception…"

"What else could we have done…" – he snorted. – "Damned if we stayed, damned if we defected…"

"We did what we thought the best solution at the time. I never expected that it'd get me into this mess after all this time…"

Stormbringer scowled, but not in anger, only in helpless frustration… Primus, that slagger saw it fit to punish them heavily for their supposed sins. He'd love to have the smug deity right there to give him a piece of his mind. A small, amused agreement curled back to him through the trine bond – Skyraider was slightly smirking in accord and offering a servo to help if the god did turn up. That small, lighter klik did more for his mood than any assurance in a cure and Stormbringer, after so long felt like flying again without a goal, just for the feel of it.

* * *

><p><strong>Silverstorm<strong>

Silverstorm was surprised that as soon as he returned Skyraider called him to the lab – and even more so when he saw Whipping Star there too, silently enduring the testing he was subjected to. What happened? His brother gave no explanation, just the confusing record of another _special_ _moment_ happening and what he thought it meant. Related to Bumblebee/Skywarp…? No way. He too had his doubts about his supposedly sparklinghood memories, but it didn't mean anything suspicious; neither of them was a normal Seeker as far as he knew, and it definitely included damaged memory banks and therefore hazy and confusing memories.

Telling that to the scientists, he tried to make sense of the jumbled feelings coming from his brother; he was agitated far more than usual, and far too soon after one so-called prophetic revelation. Nor did the conveyed pictures agree with what he saw with his optics – was he again mistaking another reality for their own? Silverstorm moved to calm down his brother who stood up from the berth, incidentally disconnecting the scanners there and moved towards one of the lab tables, but his grip did nothing to stop him; instead he dragged his brother with him towards his intended – or accidental? It was never sure with Star… – goal.

"Don't touch that!" – Ratchet saw them staggering together towards the resuscitation unit, half-dismantled for fixing but still capable of delivering a shock designed to restart a fading spark – therefore quite dangerous for a healthy mech. They all moved to prevent the contact, but it was too late; Whipping Star pushed his brother away from himself, optics flaring for a klik, straight into the device that dutifully did what it was designed to do. Skyfire, the first to arrive there could only catch the black and bronze Seeker, before he could follow his brother into the shock that crackled through the silvery-white chassis.

**_- Flashback - _**

'_Curious'_ - was his first thought when the charge run through his chassis, flexing his cables and crackling in his joints, painfully overwhelming his processor like an overcharge from high grade, only instantaneous and far stronger, seemingly stopping the time around him. The others seemed to be frozen as his inner time ran so slow as to almost stopping; if not for the picokliks that his inner clock signaled separately, one by one, slower than breems almost, he would have thought it fully stopped. He felt the dangerous charge crawl slowly through his systems in this strange clarity that the slowly passing time offered, swallowing them one by one, leaving blown breakers and burnt connections in its wake. – '_I hope I will survive this._' – his thoughts were just as slow as everything else now, and he felt the charge swallowing up his vision, shorting his optic sensors and the outside world ceased to be perceivable for some breems.

But he didn't offline. – '_Where am I'?_ – the cliché question came to his mind as the lab became visible again; changed around him, it became bigger, darker, with far more mysterious devices around – and no other mechs in it. Silverstorm stood up and was momentarily lost in the sensation of his body too changed, being smaller, weaker, different… he was a youngling again. – '_Is it a memory?_' – he asked himself, but the lab was not even like their creator's one where they weren't allowed as younglings, no matter that they snuck into it a number of times, just to show that they could. Not many knew that Star could go through walls by finding a dimension that didn't have it and go through there. But this lab was not familiar to him at all. It was… if anything it was sinister, dangerous, downright threatening. And that was before he noticed the chains on his servo, fastened to the wall. – '_What in the Pit?' _– the more details he noticed around him, the more it felt sickeningly real in a way his supposedly cheerful and normal sparklinghood memories never did - _'Are these my real memories?_' -

A door opened silently in the far side of the lab and another youngling stepped through, doorwings flared up high and nervous on his back, impatiently motioning him to move, to follow him out… - '_Why? What is there? Where should we go?_" – and he lifted the chained servo, showing it silently to the mechling. He nodded, came in the lab and after a few kliks of searching he returned with a cutter and removed the chain. Silverstorm still wasn't sure where these pictures – his real memories, he was surer by the klik of that – came from but his youngling self moved purposely after he was unchained and drew the doorwinger to a locked door on one side. Together they picked the lock and wrestled the big door open. His brother was curled up into a ball inside, shaking and whimpering in the dark, the bond that flared open almost forcing him on his knees too with the terror he felt. Not even the horror of claustrophobia and separation caused him to be able to teleport as he was supposed to do so – it only stole his processor and sanity.

The next he knew was that two doorwinged mechlings tried to drag them both outside the lab, where, in the corridor a number of other younglings milled around in various states and conditions. There seemed to be two types, one like him, winged and identical in frames, and the other group like his rescuer, the doorwinged mechling. – '_Brothers? No. But the same._' – the thought came unbidden but a wordless certainty answered it. His youngling mind felt the connection among the sparks that was familial but at the same time not; and his adult, schooled, uneasily knowledgeable mind whispered the possible answer too. – '_Clones._' –

The younglings' confusion as they looked at each other was almost palpable in the air – but the doorwingers had no time for explanations. At the far end of the corridor a pair of drones appeared and without hesitation they started to fire. The younglings closer to them fell like discarded trash, the military lasers making short work of their thin armour and delicate systems – few of them had even time for a surprised or pained yelp before their optics darkened and the beginnings of the colours on their plates grayed out. – '_Primus!_' – Silverstorm, the adult watching the memories was thoroughly sick seeing the defenseless youngsters cut down carelessly by mere drones; but Silverstorm, the youngling knew that he had no time for feeling the same horror. Grabbing his still whimpering brother with one servo and the nearest doorwinger with the other, he fired his underdeveloped thrusters for added speed and dived into the nearest open door.

He didn't stop to check who else could act the same way before disappearing from the room by its other door, not caring where it lead, only that it was away from the massacre. Only in the third corridor, after a breem's terrified and almost blind flight he felt the doorwinged mechling's insistent poking on his arm, pointing towards a specific door to their right. He had no idea where they were so any of his plans were better than nothing – and the youngster was the one freeing him, so he might have an idea how to escape too. Following him in a bit slower and much quieter pace they heard occasional shots from several parts of the building and when they did, they froze, nervously checking whether they were coming closer or not. Once they saw a giant, purple mech from afar, suspiciously sweeping his single, dreadfully shining optic over the place they were hiding, but he left with the drones and they vented easier again before sneaking forward.

The outside, once they reached it, was totally unfamiliar for all of them; even the doorwinger mechling seemed to be at the end of his knowledge about it. All they knew about was the lab and a few rooms and corridors around it… that the world was not only a building they lived in, but a lot more else was a completely new knowledge to them. Silverstorm felt still small wings twitch when he looked up and instinctly he knew that here, he could fly – once his wings grew and his thrusters strengthened enough. That alone made the place better than anything he knew before. That… and its lack of the mech called Shockwave.

**_- Flashback ends - _**

Silverstorm onlined again to the sight and sounds of Ratchet fussing over him, changing and fixing his systems that were blown by the charge, pushing him back when he tried to sit up.

"Are you all right?" – he asked frowning a bit, because the Seeker looked as unnerved as he had never seen him before; Silverstorm was the calmest, most collected individual he knew, and not only among the Seekers. But right now he looked positively freaked out by something… and not by his brush of deactivation either.

"I had a revelation." – he answered dryly, aware of the ridiculousness of the statement. It was his brother's line, not his. He was the logical one, the plotting, manipulating one and not the prophetic.

"What kind of a revelation?"

"A memory really. It appears that I - probably both of us – had false memories implanted and the charge that knocked me out also unlocked the original ones."

"What kind of memories?"

"Shockwave's lab."

It wasn't only Ratchet who scowled darkly at that statement as the scientists looked at each other; the deactivated Cyclops apparently could still hand them a few unpleasant surprises, going back to who knows how far into the past.

"We were younglings there. There were others too… many, but I don't know exactly how many. Seekers and doorwingers that I remember mostly." – he tried to collect and organize the slowly unlocking, shifting memory bits. It wasn't easy as the charge seemed to damage at least as much as it unlocked. – "We were… created there."

"Impossible…" – Skyraider interrupted – "Shockwave never created sparklings as far as I know."

"Not sparklings, no… clones. We were clones. Created as… youngsters, I think. My memories are damaged, but they indicate a groon at most there before we escaped."

"You and your brother? Or there were others too?"

"A doorwinged mechling… kind of like Prowl's type – in frame and in nature too. I wonder what happened to him later…"

"Whose clones?" – Skyraider dreaded the answer. He thought that Sunstorm was the only clone that Shockwave created; apparently the purple mech hid much from even Megatron, because he'd cracked his code and read his reports too, unknown to both. Sunstorm was his clone and that fact made both of them uncomfortable when they met, but to have even more… it was not an easy idea to deal with.

"Considering that he tried to force us to teleport, I guess we were Skywarp's. Not that any of us could ever jump as much as a meter…"

"It is possible… Megatron did want more warp capable mechs, but I never heard of a successful experiment in creating such ones."

"So that's why your brother has the same energy residue as Bumblebee!" – Ratchet looked pleased to have solved that particular mystery. – "He must have a damaged or incomplete form of warp-gate too."

"He has? So that's why he is stuck between dimensions?"

"Ratchet… if they are his clones, then the cure should… well, might work with Bumblebee. A clone is almost like a relative… not the same, but close enough. Sunstorm is like that to me." – Skyraider changed so much to be able to say that aloud without prompting, without being defensive about it. He felt like back in his days in the Science Academy, only with a lifetime's experiences behind him.

"Yeees… that might work." – Ratchet was thinking hard about it. Cloning was not the same for Cybertronians as for organic species, because it involved sparks as the hardest thing to reproduce and not protoforms or armour that was easier by far to create. It all depended really on the method that Shockwave used for the cloning process; if Skyraider and Sunstorm were an indication, then it was probably suitable for their purpose.

"Let's try it right now, Ratchet."

"Why?"

"Stormbringer is out, flying. If it doesn't work… well, I don't want to get his hopes up again and be disappointed again if it doesn't work. It'd break him for sure."

"Understand this: it is still risky. I can't scan either of them for being related enough, it doesn't work that way. It is either enough or not."

"I know. But in the light of what we have discovered and what Whipping Star said a joor earlier, it is more than worth a try, don't you think?"

"I'm a medic, not seer." – Ratchet hated the situation. Acting in a serious medical matter on the basis of a prophetic revelation and a who-knows-if-true memory vision was not what he ever expected to come his way.

"Let's do it then."

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: I'm really interested what readers think of the multidimensional existence idea I had for Whipping Star. Please tell me in a review or PM if it is understandable or not, or whatever you think about it.


	22. Trine

**Note1**:from Chapter 10 onwards Skyraider = ex!Starscream; Stormbringer = ex!Thundercracker and Bumblebee = ex!Skywarp albeit a little differently.

"normal speech" , "_comm" , ::bond/gestalt link::_

**Note2**: I promised to a reviewer to include an explanation on Whipping Star's multi-dimensional existence from the previous chapter, as it is not that easy to understand. Here it is:

_Whipping Star, as a clone of Skywarp has a mutated, dysfunctional form of the warp-gate. The warp gates canonically connected to cross-dimensional jumps if something disturbs their working. Because of the mutation WS's warp gate cannot transport him in real space, like Skywarp, instead it transports him in the transdimensional space, among realities. Like jumping from G1 to TFA and SG and so on. But unfortunately the gate is not only different but it is sorta 'stuck' open and not under his control, causing him to be at several dimensions at once. He (and the other dimensions' WS's) exist in several realities at once, and that in turn causes him to never clearly see mechs and places around him, because of the overlapping but different dimensions/timelines/realities/verses. Everything and most mechs are different in these realities and their overlapping makes them hazy and diffused. Only in some rare occasions, when more than one realities are the same, when important things happen in many dimensions at once, or a mech is the same in many dimensions (like OP or Megatron) only then he sees and hears them clearly and speaks up. Of course it sounds like prophetic knowledge, because he sees solutions in many universes, while the rest of the mechs exist only in one. Whipping Star is never sure which is 'the real' reality where he should exist, only when he has Silverstorm nearby and their bond anchor him._

* * *

><p><strong>22. Trine<strong>

* * *

><p><strong> Stormbringer<strong>

He flew under the dark, smoke-choked sky that matched is mood perfectly. The momentary lightness was gone like a sunray that breaks through the heavy clouds and warms the air for a klik, but is smothered quickly by the inevitable darkness. The joy of flying was gone too when he thought the other, brightly coloured pair of wings that should be beside his. He tried to banish the unwanted picture from his mind, those awfully spreading rust-stains on those bright, yellow expanses of metal and wobbled in the air with the sudden lack of attention like a sparkling on his first flight. It was just too much and Stormbringer gave up the pretense and turned back to New Vos. Flying slowly it still took him close to a joor to get back – he seemed to have gone quite far during his musings – and as he landed, he went straight into the med-bay, to that little side-room… or he wanted to, but an unbelievable sight stopped him in the main room.

All the scientists milled, spewing high-level technobabble around the quarantine unit that impossibly had a yellow and black shape in it, a frame he recognized at once and Stormbringer stood frozen in the doorway. Why was he taken out of the stasis pod? Surely nothing bad happened…? He still didn't dare to think of a cure. Silverstorm noticed him first from his position, slightly apart from the others and came to him with his wings signaling calm and a general 'allright'. He was smiling too, so there shouldn't be a problem – as he watched the others, they didn't seem to be nervous, rather excited. Should he dare to hope…?

"He'll be all right, at least they think so."

"They found a cure?" – Stormbringer spoke with emotion choking his deep voice.

"No. It's a bit more… complex. Apparently me and my brother were created as clones of Skywarp. They think it is close enough for the already made cure to work."

Stormbringer just gaped at him at the information… wait what? Clones of…Skywarp? He couldn't quite wrap his mind around that one.

"It is." – Skyraider turned only long enough to answer them, wings vibrating excitedly, motion Stormbringer closer and pointed to the monitor. – "See? He is not rejecting the infusion and the harmless nanites are taking over. He'll have to have a lot of parts fixed or replaced but nothing major was irreversibly compromised."

Stormbringer moved beside him, the scientists making place for the big Seeker and didn't mention the shining optics and the shaking wings. When Starscream hugged his Trine-mate and stroke his wing to calm him down they quietly left them to their emotions – only Ratchet remained there unobtrusively, monitoring the process to be safe. Stormbringer touched the glass of the quarantine unit, trying to be as close to Bumblebee as he could when he woke up. He had to wait though still, close to an orn, before the medic pronounced it to be safe to open the hermetically closed unit.

"Don't try to move him when he wakes up. The joints don't show it visibly but inside they are all damaged." – Skyraider warned him again, quite rightly supposing that he forgot it as soon as he saw the glass disappearing from between them.

"Right…" – he touched the brittle, faded armour cautiously, almost reverently. The fine particles of the rust dusted the plates, covering them with a gray layer, making them look dirty and faded even in the unharmed places. One servo caressed the wing, absentmindedly following the telltale patterns of the rust-stains. There were hardly any plates that showed no damage, even though his self healing nanites have already started on the injuries. He waited patiently before the optic shutters fluttered and Bumblebee's optics powered up with their blue shine after so long.

At first they just fluttered, following an unseen pattern in the air, before he put the first, hazy thoughts behind the glance, remembering what happened and why he was put into stasis. Stormbringer marveled quietly as the empty gaze slowly focused and filled with the personality of his lover, the happy, cheerful, kind and conscientious Seeker. He leaned forward to catch the glance and he was successful – the blue optics shone almost white when they caught the silvery ones of Stormbringer. He tried to speak too, but the vocalizer was fairly much down on the healing nanites' importance-list and he could barely croak an unintelligible word before realizing the futility of it. Not that it mattered. The optics told everything to each other.

"You are healed now of the rust, but not all of its effects, as you can surely feel. That will take some more time." – Skyraider was only a tiny bit exasperated by the lovers' sappy display and felt it necessary to inform Bumblebee of his limits for now. – "That includes your vocalizer too. When Storm' lets us closer to work on you, it will go faster."

The mouthplates twitched into a happy grimace as Bumblebee tore his optics from the blue Seeker to nod slightly towards the other one, acknowledging him and grateful. He was far too happy to care about their Trine leader's token display of grouchiness. Stormbringer hesitantly took a limp servo in his own and stroked it, too conscious of the others present to say anything personal. Bumblebee knew it and didn't care. Words or no words he felt the love and it was enough.

* * *

><p><strong>Silverstorm<strong>

The others were understandably happy to have their Trine-mate and friend back from stasis, but he and his brother had to face with some uncomfortable issues about what was revealed to them suddenly. Being a clone carried no disdain among the Seekers, not after Sunstorm proved to be quite different from Starscream, an autonomous mech on his own right and a Trine leader of his own fliers. Still, it was different than being sparked into a clan and even after a million years war, Seekers were traditionalists and still cared about clans, ranks and titles. The clones were outsiders, not part of that elaborate system. Not quite outcasts, but outsiders.

He looked at the still weak and rusted, faded yellow Seeker, lying on the med-berth, nearly smothered by Thundercracker and still hardly understanding what was going on. Silverstorm has seen Skywarp anno only a few times when the Elite Trine was ordered back to Cybertron for a mission. He has never felt any familiarity or pull towards the black and purple Seeker – and he felt none now towards his yellow version either. Why was there no bond, even the weakest one between them? He felt it for his brother, he remembered feeling it for the other clones – but none towards the one they were supposedly the 'copies of'. He made a mental note of asking Sunstorm about his experiences.

The emotions coming from his brother were still confusing. Apparently he did feel something towards Bumblebee, but then, they both had a warp gate, so it was different for the two of them. That revelation still staggered him. When this whole trouble was over, what with the still existing rust and the establishing of their new place, he was going to ask Skyraider to make some tests, do some experiments – and try to find out if Whipping Star's warp gate could be either closed or controlled by his conscious thoughts. He understood that the rust had precedence; after all, his brother had lived in this state for thousands of vorns and it wasn't likely to change overnight.

They left the med bay and its assortment of happy Seekers and retired to their own quarters. Silverstorm quickly sketched the situation to Air Raid, complete with the secret that was hardly a secret any more, of who Skyraider and Stormbringer were. The youngster was understandably shocked, but curious and quick-thinking as well, realizing the complexity of the whole deception after a few kliks. Surprisingly he didn't disapprove of it, like many, and Silverstorm had to realize that the Aerialbots had never been strong in following regulations and since it didn't affect him personally, he just accepted the whole thing.

He had no problem with them being clones either – the way he expressed it was something like if it isn't noticeable, then it isn't a problem - and Whipping Star's faulty warp-gate interested him to no end, the parallel dimensions enflaming his curiosity, once he got past the science of it. His brother seemed to notice and hear the youngster more and more and Silverstorm knew that it was a sure sign of him being at least compatible with them. It was a feat that not many achieved so far, hence their incomplete Trine. Silverstorm, who so far considered Air Raid mostly a potential mate, now cautiously dared to hope for a third too.

Now, come to think of it… the idea of clones turned around and around in his processor. There were far too few Seekers left to rebuild the species, even if they all sparked – unlikely with all the battle damages and broken trines, as damaged sparks could not be sparked -, even though they lived long lives. Even if there were some more Seekers among the Neutrals that roamed the galaxies and they all returned home. But if Shockwave's methods could be recovered and a few more Seekers, maybe even grounders created… they would be new mechs, just like himself and Sunstorm, created as youngsters, raised by couples who could not have sparklings… It was worth to put the idea through the council. In time. They had time now for everything.

* * *

><p><strong>Skyraider<strong>

"Sunstorm, I really don't have time for this religious nonsense now."

"The rust was a punishment from Primus! We must return to the old ways!"

"The rust was Shockwave's idiot idea that's gone horribly wrong. Primus had nothing to do with it."

"We must heed is as a sign! You must listen!"

"Sunstorm, I really don't have time for this. We are working on the rust and have a better chance at it than any _old ways_, whatever you mean by that."

"You are blasphemous!"

"Yes. Always been, don't act surprised. So?"

"Primus will punish you! And all of us!"

"The slagger punished me enough with you… Icestorm, are you sure you don't want to douse your crazy Trine-leader with some of your trademark hails?"

Sunstorm's Trine-mates smirked back at Skyraider's annoyed expression. After a few thousand vorns, they were more or less immune to Sunstorm's religious outbreaks, but they have always enjoyed him tormenting other mechs with it. – "He is right in some of that, you know? The others want to see a Winglord leading us again."

They couldn't really help being traditionalists; since Sunstorm self-appointed himself to be the Seekers' priest, historian and records keeper, his Trine-mates naturally fell into the role as well. Someone had to remember and keep the traditions alive and they were willing to. It gave them something to do and some importance as well – now, with the hostilities hopefully over it was even more important than before. Megatron and Shockwave didn't care about the Seeker traditions in the very least, in fact they both thought them to be unnecessary and annoying. Now with them gone they could reinstate at least some of them – as far as their numbers made it possible.

Skyraider irritatedly slapped the innocent scanner onto the worktable. They were trying to work but some of the Seekers seemed to have different priorities and considered the Winglord issue more important than the rust still spreading, albeit slowed down by the constant bombardment. It was brought up no less than seven times in the last three orns, all with a barely masked insinuations about his Trine. Yes, they should complete the ritual, because only with a complete Trine can one aspire to be the Winglord. Skyraider, since their defection and reformat didn't really aspire to the leadership as much as he used to be while he was second to Megatron; but it did flatter him that everyone seemed to think him the one who should be leading them.

And there weren't many who were even eligible; the position required a mech coming from a high-standing clan and a full Trine of his own, as well as having personal qualities and achievements too. In their little group of fliers only Skyraider – whose secret of being Starscream formerly was all but out among the Seekers – Sunstrike, Madwing and Firebrand could claim the title. From those three nobody in their right processor would choose Madwing who had serious processor damage that exhibited itself in bouts of insanity and rampage, or poor Firebrand with his broken Trine.

"Fine, I'll schedule the trine ritual in two orns' time and we can start talking about the leadership issues afterward." – it would not be enough time to get ready, but at least Bumblebee was healed now and catching up with the events as well as what he missed with Stormbringer. The yellow Seeker wasn't too happy to learn that all his former friends were now half the planet away and himself being grouped firmly with the Seekers he wasn't welcome in the Iacon base. The ritual should give him something else to think about while Stormbringer taught him the necessary knowledge about it.

"_Skyraider, I have two ground blips on the sensors, approaching roughly from the Iacon direction._" – peace treaty or not, the perimeter monitors were set up and watched at all times. Skydive, who was on duty that orn reported all movements at once, just to be safe.

"_Who are they? Can you identify the signal?_" – they didn't really expect visitors from either factions.

"_I would say two Lamborghinis._" – Skydive's voice was distinctly smug even through the comm.

"_Understood. I'll check it out._" - He took just enough time to tell it to his Trine and Skyraider was off, storming towards the slowly approaching forms. Their presence would complicate matters again; the Trine must come first but he didn't want to botch up this chance that he didn't even expect after all this time. They've come!

* * *

><p><strong>Sunstreaker<strong>

Sunstreaker knew that he would be killing Sideswipe soon. No matter what they decided, he was far-far too cheerful. The two Lamborghinis crawled over the remains of a highway, too broken and covered with rubble for their suspensions to achieve anything like their usually speeds. It made them both irritated and for Sunstreaker it was enough to push him over an edge and occasionally nudge his fantasizing and therefore overly cheerful twin off the barely visible road. Not that it made that much of a difference, really, as he thought, Cybertron at the moment was totally unsuitable for their low-slung, designed for speed Earth alt modes. But neither of them wanted to return to their former forms as they were not embarrassed to admit that Humans designed some marvelous vehicles that, with their Cybertronian innards, created aesthetic and powerful combinations.

It was a tense orn since they talked with Silverstorm, who told them a few lesser-known facts about Starscream and the former Decepticon faction. Sunstreaker was deeply touched by some of those revelations, how Megatron made the Seeker obey, how he worked behind his back, and not only to overthrow the tyrant, but to lessen some of the effects of his plans. It was thought-provoking to realize that Starscream and Soundwave had actually worked together for goals that went against what Autobots perceived as Decepticon methods. That they kept their little groups safe from both their leader and his more base followers. That by being an easy target and drawing Megatron's ire to himself Starscream actually protected his Trine and his Seekers, who hardly even knew about it. That sometimes mechs did not have the luxury of choosing the side they felt closer to, because that side actually pushed them away; like the Autobots did with both Starscream and Soundwave before the war.

Not that he had any inclination to show his reaction to Silverstorm's revelations, albeit he had a sneaking suspicion that the Seeker perceived it nevertheless. Sideswipe of course got it clearly but for once he choose not to pester him with it. Instead he was deeply happy that Sunstreaker came to see the Seekers' points and willing to give up his perceived slights – an emotion that the red twin hardly ever felt from his brother. Sideswipe was careful not to tease his volatile twin for once, and with it push him back to his former attitude that took him so long to overcome.

The officers weren't too happy, that was for sure. The already tense atmosphere that characterized the whole base after the Seekers left caused everyone to be less than understanding about their request to visit the fliers' camp. Ultra Magnus immediately and categorically forbade them to leave the base at all, for any reason and when Sunstreaker reacted to it in his usual manner, it almost came to blows between the two. Fortunately the Base Commander wasn't appreciated presently by the rest of the command staff who didn't want to lose the frontliners the same way as they did with the fliers and gave them permission to go to New Vos for as long as they needed. It wasn't as though they were that useful with no fighting going on and their altmodes totally unsuitable for anything on Cybertron.

The Earth crew knew quite well that since the war and the necessity to remain loyal to the faction ended, Sunstreaker's temper, once riled up enough could well cause him to simply leave and never come back. Perhaps even violently if someone tried to stop him from going with only regulations cited as reason, like Ultra Magnus was wont to do. Many of them outright sympathized with the twins anyway, as their whirlwind affair with Skyraider was followed by only slightly less interest and gossip than Stormbringer and Bumblebee's. Autobots all loved good gossip and juicy stories and even more so since the fighting ended and the disease was partly under control too. They trusted the scientists to find the solution to it and so most of their interest turned towards the hottest stories circulating – and theirs presently was on the top of those lists.

So, before the two Lamborghinis left the Iacon base, they were approached by many of their comrades, wishing them well, asking about their intentions or just smirking and winking in a true Earth fashion that left the Cybertron-based bots in the dark, bemused and not understanding. Not all Bots came as well-wishers of course, but even Hot Rod eventually fell silent – albeit not of his own will, only after Sunstreaker backhanded him into a bulkhead with impressive passion. He really didn't appreciate the flame-coloured mech's insinuations that concerned Seeker promiscuity in general and Skyraider's in particular. As far as opinions went though, Hot Rod wasn't that popular at the moment, so nobody was quick to help him up.

On the road, it was both better and worse. Better, because he knew that they left the most annoying mechs behind and the Seekers, as far as they knew were far less set towards both protocol and prejudices. It meant a certain freedom of acting and behaving that was so far not possible in the Autobot army. On the other servo, he was really going to kill Sideswipe and if it went on for long it was going to be slow and painful. The mech was impossibly cheerful, imagining the most lascivious scenarios and sharing them with Sunstreaker through their bond; and almost chirping in mirth as they were slowly nearing the place where this New Vos was situated.

They had to go round the ruins that used to be Vos and that put them in a bit worse mood. None of them were part of the army back then, but it was still one of the worst stains in the Autobot honour that they claimed to be just and fair. Not always so, as all the fliers knew and as the twins heard the sad tale from Silverstorm. Not easy to be the Winglord and make a decision for your people that you know to be wrong – but the enemy of your enemy must be by necessity your friend. Starscream had to make that decision, join his remaining forces with Megatron, just because a few snobbish and prejudiced Senators didn't trust the Seekers. Sometimes it takes only that much to push a planet into a million years war.

They were nearing to their goal and Sunstreaker knocked his red twin's fender again to stop fantasizing – it was really, really distracting in its lewdness, not that he didn't want them to come true - and put his aft into gear, when they heard the jet engines roar above. All sensors directed upwards, they silently followed the jet shape disappearing high into the dark clouds, unable to discern the colours from down there, but knowing without proof just who he was. Suddenly they felt small and insignificant in the face of the mighty jet turbines pushing the coveted frame ever higher, almost to orbit, the sound of them cutting off at last, leaving the silence of the dead planet behind.

Then the small, white sliver of a plane cut through the dark, silently billowing smoke, whirling them aggressively in his wake as he free-falled straight towards them, dark gold glinting on the white plating, his lighter vapor trail drawing his course onto the black sky, silent again since he cut the engines in this magnificent display of daring and ability. The twins transformed, unwilling to miss the spectacle with their own optics, hissing in unison as the seemingly kamikaze jet passed a point that they thought as no return, not far from them.

But Skyraider wasn't the best flier of Cybertron for naught and he pulled up at the last possible klik, engines roaring their deafening sound again, passing them just over their helms, so close that they might even be able to touch his fuselage. Sunstreaker, never caring about consequences even lifted a golden servo to do so – fortunately he couldn't match the jet's speed even with his lightning-quick reaction so he was late. The jet ascended again, turned and swayed back towards them, circling the two standing and staring forms a few times in an inward spiral, before transforming on the fly and with an enviable ease thumped down on his thrusters lightly on the pockmarked, metallic ground. None of them spoke for an eternally long klik.

Sunstreaker shifted nervously from one pede to another. Now that they were here, face to face suddenly even Sideswipe's cheerfulness ebbed away a bit and was replaced by uncertainty – growing more as Skyraider just stood there, facing them, unmoving, silent. Did he give up on them already? But then he noticed the wings, flaring backwards, quivering nervously, like Bluestreak's doorwings did when he was afraid and uncertain and suddenly Sunstreaker realized that the Seeker was just as insecure as the two of them. Or at least him. On a whim he spoke up first, having been the last to come around.

"I overreacted. I didn't know anything about you, your reasons and I saw only the lie." – it wasn't easy to say so, but he had to. – "It was wrong not to listen."

"I'm terribly sorry for the lie… but you know that already. Can you forgive me…?" – it must have been just as hard for the Seeker and that strangely filled Sunstreaker with satisfaction. Out of the three of them only Sideswipe could freely talk about what he felt – which right then was a growing, deep happiness that made Sunstreaker scowl at him without a heat this time, just for show.

"We already have. Right, Sunshine?" – Sideswipe was incorrigible – "He just can't tell it without hating himself for saying it aloud. So I guess it's better if I say so."

"What my idiot of a brother says is that we wouldn't be here if it wasn't all right."

Skyraider looked from one twin to the other, gathered the start of a grin on Sunstreaker's face and the wide one already on his brother's and his wings came forward to frame his body in happiness.

"I… I think I love you two... I'm glad that… slag I'm happy for…" – he was babbling and he knew it, so the twins spared him the embarrassment of it and hugged him close right where they were to shut him up. Which was fine with Skyraider too.

* * *

><p><strong>Stormbringer<strong>

It has always been him to press the issue of the Trine. Skywarp grumbled sometimes to Starscream and tried to drag him into their shared quarters for some snuggling, but generally he was fine with Stormbringer and after a while he just gave up on Screamer. He never really understood why their Trine leader started to distance himself from them and he didn't care enough to find out. He started to hate Starscream and in time ignore him as much as it was possible while living and fighting together. But Thundercracker knew the reason and it pained him to see the other two going at it more and more as time went on.

He knew that Starscream protected them from Megatron as much as he provoked the tyrant for his own reasons. Perhaps even he couldn't say how much of his actions stemmed from one reason or the other, but Thundercracker knew that they enjoyed the consequences of it. Not only the two of them, but all the Seekers; while Megatron blamed Starscream for every failed maneuver, move and battle and punished him for those all the time – in the meanwhile they got away with the most ridiculous mistakes and badly executed schemes without anyone even noticing it. But it made him distant, created the walls between them and embittered the former Air Commander. They never cared to stand up for him even when they should have and in exchange Starscream started to hate them and a vicious circle began.

When Skywarp died and he disappeared, captured by the Autobots, Starscream suddenly discovered that he was still connected to them, that the ignored, sneered and hated Trine bond still existed among them. He could have gone on and broke it fully – he had the opportunity and the two replacement Seekers whom he could use for replacing them. Perhaps, Stormbringer mused, perhaps the whole history would have gone differently then. But he didn't go that way. He followed them and that showed to the blue Seeker that their bitching and sneering Trine-leader still cared. A lot.

Now, he wondered, as he closed the comm line, it was Skyraider deciding to initiate the ritual, to bond them into a true Trine before they all choose mates. It was the way Seekers worked; the Trine first, the family afterwards. He sure didn't want to stall any more before bonding to Bumblebee, so it was fortunate that the traditionalists provoked Skyraider into acting, even though they all knew that the scientists still worked on the rust infection problem all orns long. But it wasn't like a few joors of another important thing would seriously hamper that effort.

He'd explained the ritual to Bumblebee before, so they only had to refresh it and go out a bit to practice some moves. The yellow Seeker was glad to stretch his wings after being immobile for so long and their practice soon turned into a carefree and happy joyflight that they missed desperately lately. Not even the dark skies and the swirling clouds disturbed them as they flew together as one, exchanging jokes and lewd remarks. Stormbringer for once left his brooding side on the ground and Bumblebee forgot his reserved one; and it made the moments rare and precious that they could spend together, high up in the air.

"I'm going to change my designation." – Bumblebee said suddenly and Stormbringer almost stalled at hearing that. He couldn't have known, because he simply wasn't online to hear it, that most of the Seekers sneered at the designation that he carried on from his former life as a grounder. He has always been adamant on keeping it, even after the reformat that changed his whole life.

"To what?" – he didn't ask why, even though the question almost burned his vocalizer to come out. He would tell if he wanted to.

"Surprise." – and the yellow wings waggled in the jet version of a smirk.

"Ohhh… at the ritual?"

"Yes. I feel it is time. I've almost died twice and I'm definitely not the same mech as I used to be… not any more. Besides if I guess right Bumblebee is rather a crude, inappropriate designation among Seekers."

"I never minded that."

"I know. But it is still true."

"Does it involve new colours or you want to retain that?" – Stormbringer rather hoped that it did not. He got used to the cheerful but elegant yellow and black and it was still unique as Seeker colours went.

"No, I don't want to change the way I look!"

"All right then." – he waggled back his wings – "Race to the landing pad? Screamer is there too and if I'm right he has two visitors."

"The twins came! Hooray!" – in true Seeker fashion, he did a loop in happiness before racing the blue jet to home and fell onto the three of them standing awkwardly by the main dome to steal some hugs. He was already happy and got happier by the klik to see former friends and his trine leader's love life getting on the road too.

* * *

><p><strong>Skyraider<strong>

The next light cycle saw a tiredly limping but almost outrageously happy Seeker stepping out of his designated quarters, now shared with the twins. Since he had not been seen for most of the last orn along with them, everyone could guess what they were up to that caused him to walk funny in the morning and wince sometimes. He was also downing an energon cube like one starving and Stormcloud, coming out of his Trine's dome nodded to him knowingly. –"These youngsters have stamina, ehh? They are not half bad for grounders. Are you sure Raider that you are up to the challenge?" – his trine mates were heard snickering loudly behind; they were both millenias younger than their Trine leader.

Skyraider looked back mischievously at them, signalling a mildly rude expression with his wings – "I'm up and they are not. Any other questions?" – The laughter came naturally from all of them at that.

"Way to go Skyraider!" – the younger ones didn't dare to call him by a nickname, no matter his apparent good mood. The former Air Commander rarely brooked excessive familiarity and was known for his lighting quick temper. But not this orn it seemed as he nodded back to them too, not bothered by the whooping display they showed to him.

"Hopefully you won't limp in the air later, Raider! – Stormbringer was up and about too with Bumblebee, looking just slightly less tired and hungry than their Trine leader, from much the same activities apparently. – "Wouldn't look good from the Trine leader."

"Even hobbling I'm faster than you" – the banter was good-natured and it warmed them all to notice that. It was the natural way of a Trine, to be the best friends but still compete to their utmost.

"Faster is not always better." – Bumblebee was also signalling lewd suggestions with his wings, almost overdoing it.

"Look who's talking…" – that was Sideswipe, also arriving to the scene and picking up the thread with ease. Teasing Bumblebee has always been satisfying and it hasn't changed from a pair of wings. Only now he had to be mindful of Stormbringer who never liked to hear about the past encounters of his lover and his trine-leader's lovers. Frag, it was getting complicated.

"Anyway, I'll see you all two joors later on the landing area."

"Uhh, Raider are you going to work until that?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"I have some ideas… we _youngsters_ have enough stamina to tire out a Seeker." – Sunstreaker was joking and the world probably coming to an end. Even the Seekers looked satisfyingly surprised at him, while Sideswipe silently gaped at his uncharacteristically social twin. – "But of course you might need your strength later."

Later that orn they met at the cleared area that was designated as landing field and therefore equipped with strong lights to provide a safe place even in the eternal semi-darkness of the planet. Many of the Seekers watched on from the sides and around, albeit the trine ritual was usually private business – but those three were just different and famous enough to call everyone's interest. The Aerialbots too were there, standing only slightly apart, their distance from the Seekers disappearing by the orn. The twins did stand apart as grounders, although they were not derided as Seekers would do generally; Skyraider's glower discouraged any such attitude towards them and besides any grounder whom he would choose as mate would be automatically elevated in social position.

Bumblebee stood at the middle of the landing pad alone, his plating cleaned and waxed to its shiniest perfection, earning a nod even from Sunstreaker, the perfectionist. He was always partial to the Seeker's yellow-and-black paintjob, one of his best creations. Bumblebee rose slowly upwards, levitating in root form, keeping the elevation low so as not to disappear in the dark clouds. He started to move from side to side, swaying, twisting and turning in barely there movements, dancing alone, in himself, to a tune that he alone heard. As he was swirling there, a few meters away a blue Seeker rose to the air, performing his own aerial ballet, the movements slower and less flashy, as he first circled the yellow frame, weaving his moves into the other's, half courting, half dominating the smaller jet's movements.

They got closer and closer to each other, barely leaving a small gap between their slowly heating plating – but through that space a third form launched itself upwards, the white-gold frame cleaving their dance and pulling them up at the same time, with his impetus. It was a daring move and many of the onlookers down on the field nodded appraisingly at its boldness and ingenuity. The three forms rose, Skyraider ahead and in the middle, but not going at full tilt, letting the other two twirl around him occasionally as they followed his ascent. He hardly moved from his straight course but the slight movements were still part of the dance that they carved into the dark air. The moves slowly became more and more complex as they started to fly together instead of competing for the positions until it transcended the actual dance and became surreal.

The movements, the tunes, the dance-steps started to synchronize as they rose and fell in the trance of the aerial ballet. White, yellow and blue glinted and flashed around each other, keeping their roles, their places, as the Trine, this mystery that is so much more than three fliers, was born. Or rather, reborn in their case. A sudden flash broke the moves and Bumblebee caught on his blue mate's wings, teleporting them again silently to grab and be grabbed by Skyraider's servos too. The three of them swirled still around an unseen center, holding onto each other, the silent dance completely in harmony now, the three of them already moving as one, touching, feeling, their connection strengthening all the time.

Cables sneaked from ports, connecting the forms in a tangle of wires, as their systems synchronized too. Memories flew around, the first flight together, the first kisses, the first jokes, the first arguments, the thousand other firsts… remember? Yes, I/we remember. I/we won't forget who I/we are. I/we will always belong together, care for each other, protect me/us. Even when I/we go to other mates. Even when I/we are angry and frustrated and feel alone. I/we will be there for me/us. Thoughts formed and gone around with lightning speed, systems hummed in perfect contentment and at last their plates shifted apart to seal the bond. Three sparks lit up the darkness of the heights they rose to and which hid the private moment from the onlookers, their energies touching, kissing, forming the bond that would connect them forever. Three moans accompanied the touching of the sparks as they too spun in harmony, their colours different but a little tendril from each binding them together.

The moment of perfection lasted just a nanoklik but it was enough to seal the Trine. Skyraider. Stormbringer. Stingray. Three as one. Trine leader, Second and Third. ::_good choice_:: came through the bond ::_I like it too_:: flashed from the other way ::_It came to me as I awakened._:: he answered and smirked inwardly ::_The three S-s_::

_::Seekers like the 'S' designations::_

_::I bet Raider already thinking to design you a stinger::_

_::I do not! But I will if you want one.:: - _laughing echoed across the newly formed link as they started to slowly descend, back towards the waiting Seekers.

_::I might… but not while you have work to do. Btw… would you mind if I jumped us straight into our quarters?::_

"_No, don't! They wouldn't understand…" – _Skyraider was worried about the twins. Would they understand that a Seeker Trine needed an occasional interface, even if they had outside partners? Or would they take it as an insult? He was new to this serious commitment thing and didn't want to botch it up by being unmindful of them. ::_Let's land together and I'll explain it to them.::_

The cables recoiled to their places, the sparks once again hidden by their protective plates, the servos tentatively let the others go. They landed together still, moving queerly together as the newly formed Trines usually do; the total synchronization of course disappearing in time and only comes fore in flight or fight, when it is most needed. But for now they moved and looked almost the same, despite of the differences in frames, size and colours. The assembled Seekers nodded to each other, appraising glances slid on the immaculate platings, the sensuously fluttering wings, the lascivious cockpits. Too bad that they are all spoken for, the thought flashed across many processors; Seekers just after the trine ritual are the most desirable and those three have always been something special.

The twins too feel the magic in the air, even though they don't exactly know the reason for it. But they do feel the lust, the heat that rolls from the Seekers' armours and they are just as affected by the display as the other onlookers. Still, Sunstreaker grabs Sideswipe as the Seekers approach and grumbles to him to hold back because it is their Trine-time, not the other way. How he knows it, Skyraider doesn't know but he is eternally thankful for small favours. He would make up for them aplenty – but now he stayed with the Trine.

* * *

><p><strong>Silverstorm<strong>

Working together with the other scientists – and ignoring the still resentful Ultra Magnus – it took them less than a groon to discover a solution for the still spreading rust nanites and treat the huge area that has been affected. It left an immense crater behind that nobody dared to approach even vorns after the last outbreak of the rust was recorded and treated, time and time again. Noone knew what to do with it until one orn Skydive lifted his nasal plating from a datapad he's been reading and asked Skyraider why they didn't put the rubble that covered the planet's surface into the crater. For that absentminded question he was hailed as a genius for orns, making him embarrassed and an instant celebrity; the latter resulting the Meteor Trine courting him as their third in the place of the one they lost in the war.

That started the real work of rebuilding the planet. Many of the larger mechs were temporarily reformatted to be construction vehicles to more effectively deal with the rubble that in some places covered the planet's surface in a hundred-plus meter thick layer. Of course most of the work was done by the numerous drones, but it still left plenty for them too. The still smoldering and burning fires were put out and hundreds of air-filtering towers put up to clear the atmosphere and get rid of the dangerous and unpredictable acid rains. Organic, inert gas producing bacteria were imported from Earth to shore up the weakened atmosphere, despite of Sunstorm's religious vehemence against anything organic. A chain of satellites were sent into orbit to provide some light until a suitable solar system could be found to end Cybertron's careening way across the galaxies. Earth was still the main source of their energon and a diplomatic partner but they did want to be self-sufficient in that regard.

The three towns where they settled started to grow and resemble to real cities once again. A few groons later the first Neutrals arrived, slowly lifting their numbers but of course remaining frightfully few even despite of it. The political situation also started to settle, with the three towns giving equal numbers of representatives into a federal government and the Prime presiding over it; but the towns regaining their semi-independence that they agreed on. Soundwave gave up leading Kaon soon afterwards and retired into a civilian life that the telepath has always wished for. Afterwards Kaon was led by a small group of elected mechs, mostly new to the political life, but learning fast.

New Vos surprisingly got off the fastest start from among the new settlements. Soon after the Trine ritual, Skyraider was unanimously elected to Winglord and proved to be the leader that he has always fought to be and promised to be. It was perhaps ominous that he should attain it after giving up his ambition for his Trine. Silverstorm enjoyed sitting on his council just as much as he enjoyed being the Seeker envoy in the confederate government. His relationship with Air Raid was progressing nicely, his brother's warp gate under scrutiny by the scientists and his manipulative nature loved being not in power, but just around the throne. Life was getting so easy that it almost got them worried; in their experience, such easy and good periods never lasted long. Fortunately nobody called it a golden age just yet, that would surely jinx them.

* * *

><p><strong>Stingray<strong>

The invitations went out to basically everyone on Cybertron; the way they thought even if everyone came they would fit into the recently rebuilt Aerie. So everyone was invited and as theirs promised to be the first bonding since the end of the war, it was thought that quite many would actually come. The best answer came from the Prime, saying that he would be honored if they accepted him to be the one presiding over their bonding. As he said, it was the most enjoyable of his duties before the war and he would be the happiest mech if his schedule would include many such obligations in the future. Of course they accepted; the significance of the Prime blessing a Seeker bonding didn't go unnoticed by anyone. Not to mention that the other choices for the role included Sunstorm and Soundwave; the decision after realizing this was easy.

"Stand still or I have to start again!" – Sunstreaker scowled as he cleaned off the last, slightly smeared glyph from the yellow plating to start again with the navy blue, slightly glittering paint that Stingray choose for decoration. It did look good on his yellow and the artist's processor had no problem to remember that it was exactly Thundercracker's dark blue shade. The most concern was caused by the glyphs being Vosian which he didn't know and had to match the shapes constantly with the samples that he downloaded before starting. But he was a perfectionist and Stingray knew it – and so he had no problem trusting the golden mech's work.

"Who will paint you for your own bonding? I can't see anyone coming even close to your perfection."

"Hnh… probably Fireflight. Do you know how talented he is… well, when he actually pays attention for a breem or so? And he learns concentrating too, once I made all his paints glittering."

"Really? I didn't know that."

"Well, you do now. And it is ready. Don't move yet!" – Sunstreaker circled around the stock-still Seeker, looking for any mistake, double-checking each glyph of each pledge and promise. It was highly bad-omened to make a mistake in one's bonding glyphs and it was not going to happen to his work. Skyraider was doing the same for Stormbringer, painting his oaths onto his plating, and Sunstreaker would bet on his favourite wax that they were doing it in sunshine yellow. They will look good together then, he decided. Frag, they looked good together anyway.

The Aerie was one of those buildings that were rebuilt to copy exactly the original, down to the smallest detail. From the pillared white walls an enormous crystal skylight grew out, its shallow dome enclosing the space into multicolored lights. So far, in the absence of a sun, the light-beams that gave the meticulously planned patterns on the floor came from huge lights set above the dome. The white walls included some damaged but carefully preserved relics that they found among the ruins but mostly copies of the originals that were gone forever. Grounder mechs, civilians have always found it unsettling to see mech parts displayed like decoration, but for the Seekers it was natural; the beaten enemies have always ended up on the walls and to one's famous ancestors were also accorded that honour. Mostly they were just empty helms and armour anyway.

In the middle, right under and bathing in a golden ray through the crystal stood Optimus Prime. Since coming back from Earth he reverted to his old, Cybertronian form and now, with the silver glyphs on his blue plating, denoting his office he looked magnificent, like in the old times. Sunstorm vibrated just to the right and behind him, while Prowl stood impassively on his left, his stark colours providing a perfect counterpoint to the excited and flashy Seeker. Sunstorm haggled literally joors on every detail of the bonding, going over it to make sure that no grounder, not even the Prime besmirched the Seeker traditions. The end result was almost funny, considering that neither parties had any living creators, which basically cut a great part of the ceremony.

Skyraider led Stormbringer in from one side and Silverstorm brought Stingray through the other doorway, until they met in the middle; the most they could do about living relatives. The Prime told a nice speech, wonderfully short, making him instantly a favourite among the Seekers. Then Sunstorm who insisted on a religious aspect told a longer, far more boring one that had Skyraider snickering and many other Seekers quietly booing, while the two of them tried to keep their wings straight. After that Prowl officially registered their intention to bond and so noted in the records and it was the Prime's time again. Holding their servos together he simply announced:

"Stormbringer and Stingray: hereby I declare you to be bonded mates. May you be happy and fruitful as long as you function." – he would have said more but the dam finally burst and the always easily excitable Seekers just couldn't take it quietly any more and started to holler and shout well-wishes. Stormbringer hugged Stingray close, kissing him passionately and that was about the end of any formalities. The rest was a party and even Sunstorm relented his stiff stance after being made to drink a few cubes of high-grade.

The party went on for most of the night cycle and for the most tenacious ones it went on well into the next orn. It included so many speeches and wishes to the newly bonded couple that they were hard put to accept them all with a good grace. Stormbringer was strongly relieved when it was finally polite for them to withdraw to their quarters to commence with the real bonding, the part that he was waiting for so many vorns. When their sparks kissed for real, merging fully he felt like coming home. He was so happy, it was almost too much. Almost. Secretly he hoped that it would never end. As it happens it took scant ten orns after the bonding before Stingray announced something that made him even happier:

"I'm sparked!"

* * *

><p><strong>Note<strong>: I am immensely glad to be able to complete this story, so far the longest one I've ever written at 120k+ words. At the moment I'm not sure if there will be a sequel or not; I do have some ideas for one, but first I want to finish my other fics, then rewrite some chapters here that bother me, and I do have ideas for new stories too. So if I write a sequel, it still won't be any time soon.

btw, I hope noone minds me renaming Bumblebee too. I saw it fitting for all three of them to have a new designation. :-)

**On a separate note, I thank all of you who followed this story, reviewed, alerted or fav'd it, because all the feedback meant a lot of inspiration for me to write and go through the harder parts. I'm glad that many of you liked the story, because it meant that I created something worthwhile and interesting enough to be read.**


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